


Big Break

by fireffly



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Heavy BDSM, Kidnapping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireffly/pseuds/fireffly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of misery, Jensen aged out of the foster care system and ran away to become a famous actor.  Vulnerable and alone in the big city left him a victim of his unscrupulous agent.  Despite her sweet maternal disposition, she sold him to pay off her debts to the owner of a hard core porn studio.</p>
<p>Now, held captive by the violent director, and left in the hands of a sadistic co-star, Jensen has to endure torment and torture in hopes that once the contract is up, they will actually let him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jared held in a bored sigh, hand fiddling absently at the metal buckle of his leather pants. He was bored. He was so fucking bored. They'd been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes, the stupid cow of a woman prattling on and on about how she didn't have the money she owed the boss, but she had something better. She kept promising something better. How many fucking times did these idiots think they could con their way out of trouble? Stupid enough to borrow money from Jeff Morgan didn't make them suddenly smart enough to wiggle out of paying it back. Over her shoulder Jared caught Jeff's attention and with the slight roll of the older man's eyes Jared could tell he was thinking the same thing.

“We had a deal, Estelle.” Jeff's deep voice was almost patient with her. Jared had no idea how his boss could do that when all he wanted was to take what she owed, one way or another and get her out of there. He had better things he could be doing. He wanted to get a few more shots in that afternoon then he had an appointment with the new distribution company. And he wanted to get all that done and out of the studio at a decent hour.

“Mr. Morgan. Please...”

“No, Estelle.” He said sharply. “I was there when you needed help. I lent you the money to expand your agency. I gave you the money that paid for your plastic surgery so you could get back in the game. I even gave you three extensions. But there is a limit to my kindness. You will sign over your agency and as of tomorrow you will be working for me.”

Jared had to admit watching the cow's shock widen and fear creep deeper and deeper into her eyes was fun. Just watching her squirm, her body flinching, realization that everything she'd worked for over the last twenty years was about to be handed over and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. But then Jeff had set this in motion a while back. Having a talent agency would be a fantastic way to troll for new blood.

The woman's panic shot her forward in her seat. “I have a boy for you!”

That caught both Jared and Jeff's attention. Jeff's head cocked slightly, an amused grin spread across his lips. “I have plenty of boys of my own already.”

“No, not like him.” Estelle settled back slightly in her chair, stealing a glance to Jared who did not take his eyes off her. She swallowed nervously, hands pressing down her skirt. Jared had to almost admire how she put on her professional face and attempted a smile. Almost. But admiring the stupid cow would take more than that. “He's beautiful and he's young. Ran away from some group home few months ago, just turned eighteen, has no one. No family, no friends, doesn't even know anyone in town but me.”

Jeff arched a brow indicating mild interest. “They're a dime a dozen in this town. What makes him so special?”

“If you would just look at him.”

Jeff's eyes caught Jared's gaze and they shared a silent conversation. Jared offered a slight shrug. They were looking for a new lead, the last was not only getting too old, already twenty-two, but also too used up. Estelle caught the small exchange and even if she had no idea what they were silently saying she pushed on.

“He's so shy and pretty and just reeks of innocence.”

“Oh yeah,” laughed Jeff. “Just what we need; innocent and shy.”

“And he's a virgin.”

Okay, that caught Jared's attention. His lips curled slowly, feeling the tickle of excitement in the depths of his belly and caught Jeff's eyes again. Jared spoke for the first time. “How would you know that?”

Estelle half turned in her chair. Her eyes flickered to his then dropped, she couldn't look him. That only made him grin more, taking perverse pleasure in how much she feared him. “Took him to an opening last month. He's never drank before and after a couple of beers he was more open. It's when I found out he's been living in one of those hobo hotels and he has no family, he admitted that he's never been with either a woman or man. He's too shy to approach women and he says he's not gay.”

“If he's not gay then what good is he to us?”

She straightened her back and finally looked Jared in the eyes. “I didn't think it would matter to someone like you.”

Jared barked out a laugh. So the woman did have some balls, would explain why she'd lasted in the business for so long. Jared grinned, deep dimples winking to her as cold hazel eyes narrowed. “It wouldn't. Not in the least.”

She swallowed back a shudder and turned back to Jeff. “He's not on my books. You don't get him unless we make this deal. Take one look at him, please. You won't regret this.”

Jeff shook his head solemnly. “You owe me a lot of money, Estelle. What are your terms?”

“Three of your hard core movies, I know what you pay for that. That would cover my debt. A forth for inconvenience.”

“And he would go along with this?”

She nodded, nervously at first but then more sure. “I'll make sure of it.”

“Where is he?”

“Outside, I left him sitting on the park bench beside my car.”

With a nod from Jeff Jared pushed up from his chair, raising to his full height of six foot four and moved around Estelle's chair, grinning at the shiver his closeness caused her. At the window he uses two fingers to part the blinds just enough to look out. Across the street was a Prius parked among all the other cars but Jared was sure it was hers because beside it was the most beautiful untouched angel he had ever seen. Looked even younger than eighteen, short light brown hair, tips tinted lighter by the sun, spiked just right with bangs fluttering over his brow, alabaster skin which only highlighted the large green eyes, perfectly straight nose over scrumptious, thick, pink bow lips. His shoulders were wide, tapered down to a thin waist and though Jared couldn't see his ass, he had no doubt it would be as perfect as the rest of him.

He purred deeply. “I want him.”

Jeff laughed softly. “That good, huh?”

Jared took one last look as the boy twisted a bit on the bench, lifting his face up, like a flower seeking out the sun. Something about the way he settled into the bench, his face so calm, as if peacefulness fell over him.

“Delicious.”

He moved back to the other side, heading back to his chair, but at the last minute he couldn't resist and dropped to a crouch leaning close to Estelle. His voice dropped deep and hungry. “You do know what I'll do to him, don't you?”

She shrank away, fear rolling through her wide brown eyes. “I... um...”

Jared licked his lips slowly, eyes dropping to half mass as if just imagining. “He's so innocent, an angel, isn't he? Pure, untouched.”

“Yes.” she whispered shakily.

Jared's eyes opened, locking to hers, wanting to see her, wanting to watch her reaction. “I'm going to touch him. I'm going to dirty him in ways he'll never recover from. I'm going to use him up, fuck him hard, make him scream and beg for mercy then scream and beg louder to come. I'm going to break that poor little angel.”

He could see wetness in her eyes. Was that tears? Was she going to cry for the boy she was selling off? Now that was precious. He crowded closer, his lips brushing against her ear, delighting in the feel of her trembling body. “And when he's used up and worthless, fucked opened and fucked up, I'll throw him away like a piece of garbage. Then you can have him back.”

Her eyes snapped closed, breath held inside her. Jared watched as she went through a gauntlet of emotions, waiting to see if she would back out. Would she try and suddenly save the little whelp outside or would she sacrifice him like a lamb on the altar to pay her own debts? Not like she had a choice anymore, Jeff would take from her whatever he wanted, and if Jared wanted that boy outside Jeff would make it happen. Jared was curious though, what would the old cow do.

When she finally opened her eyes again she blinked away whatever wetness was there and turned to Jeff. “Do we have a deal?”

Jared laughed to himself at the cut throat bitch's answer, and returned to his chair. Jeff pretended he was thinking about it and Jared rolled his eyes. “Alright. Four movies. He stays with us till the entire time. You get him back when we're done.”

“If you still want him back.” added Jared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking his dream has come true, Jensen finds himself thrust into his worst nightmare

Jensen's hands fiddled nervously at his belly almost as if somehow he could calm the tension building, the tension like lead growing inside him. His gaze skirted around the room, simple decor, old cheap desk well used couch to the side, a few rows of shelves filled with VHS tapes, several boxed of DVDs. Papers scattered in loose piles shoved into places on the shelves, not very organized and not very tidy. Part of him wanted to go over and look into the boxes or read the titles of the movies but he remained in his chair. The older man with the dark eyes and darker affectation who had brought him here had left only one command. “Sit.” So Jensen had sat. Estelle had said this was about a job, possibly his big break so the last thing Jensen wanted was to screw everything up by being snoopy.

There was just something so weird about everything. This was like no audition Estelle had ever sent him on before. It was the first time she'd ever come with him and it didn't make sense that she'd left him outside for so long while she talked on his behalf, wasn't all that supposed to happen before the audition, and wasn't she just supposed to set them up? Maybe she was taking more interest in him; she kept telling him how much potential he had and how she was going to make him famous. He asked himself, again, if maybe he was setting himself up. Trusting people had never worked out before. Eleven years in foster care, nine families and four group homes, he'd learned that most people are nothing but liars and fakes; no one does anyone favours in this world. But, like she said if he doesn't work then she doesn't make money, so wouldn't it be in her interest to make sure he gets work?

He flinched as the door opened and the older man returned, what was his name? Right, Mr. Morgan. Jensen jumped to his feet, unsure, and attempted the broadest smile he could. Then he noticed another man entering and his eyes rose, then rose again, swallowing at not only the man's height, but his presence. And he was a man with presence. The height was intensified by the width of his shoulders, sculptured muscles tapering down, his dark grey button down shirt open the first three buttons displaying the strong chest and chiselled abs and for a moment Jensen’s attention paused on the thick loose silver chain at his neck. It looked quite heavy, and expensive. Jensen's eyes locked for a moment on his arms, shirt sleeves rolled up showing off thick forearms, and such large hands, one which was extended to him and Jensen realized Mr. Morgan was making introductions. He held out his own hand, the larger hand just swallowing his up. Good looking face, maybe mid-twenties, he thought, direct focused hazel eyes seemed locked on him, as was a wide amused grin. Realizing he'd missed whatever Mr. Morgan had said Jensen felt the blush rise up and taint his cheeks a warm pink. Oh great.

“Oh that's fucking adorable.” the tall man said and Jensen felt the heat intensify, pulling his hand to turn away but the large paw just held tighter. “Oh Jeff, he's perfect.”

Jensen's eyes flickered from one to the other, watching the two men share a glance then turn back to him. He knew his palm was sweating and wanted so much to take his hand back but the man wouldn't release it.

“Does that mean I get the job?”

Mr. Morgan laughed a little, some joke Jensen didn't get. “Yeah, boy, you got the job. Jared here'll fill you in.” Then to Jared he added, “We roll in an hour.”

With a slap on Jared's back and a pointed look between the two Mr. Morgan left the room, leaving Jensen alone with Jared who was still holding his hand.

Jensen exhaled a “wow” and for a moment allowed the thrill of excitement to rush through him. He got the job. Estelle said it was a lead in a very small independent film but it was a fucking lead in a small independent film! His heart pounded with excitement and he wanted to whoop and holler and jump and scream or something and he would have if he was alone. He realized Jared was watching him and let out a self-conscious laugh, his cheeks surely reddening again and he dipped his head down shyly. “Sorry man. First gig. But I guess you kinda figured that out on your own.”

With a tug on his captured hand Jared pulled him closer and reached out at the same time, touching his blushing cheek, just the faintest touch. Jensen froze. The levity flooding out of him and he stepped back, pulling with more determination and finally took his hand back.

“So um...” he wiped the sweat of his palms onto his jeans, taking a few more steps back, wanting distance from this tall, intense man. “I didn't even get a script or anything. Don't even know the storyline.”

Jared smirked and shrugged. “Don't worry about it. We sorta ad-lib around here. I'll make sure you get a script by the end of the day. The scene we are doing today you won't need it.”

“But I don't even know what it's about.”

Jared's pink tongue slipped out and slowly caressed across his own bottom lip, wetting it, dark hazel eyes narrowing on Jensen and there was something almost wolfish about it. “Today we are going for reaction. It's a kidnapping story. Young innocent virgin boy,” his eyes seemed to just twinkle as he spoke, “That would be you.”

Jensen swallowed hard, almost nodding, or would if he felt he could move.

“Getting all bound and everything and trying to just survive, endure. Y'know, shit like that.”

“And you play the...”

“Kidnapper, of course.”

Jared moved closer and Jensen found himself stepping back until he felt the edge of the desk and he couldn't move any further without looking the fool. He tried not to flinch when Jared's fingers cupped his chin, forcing his eyes up. “Needless to say I'll be touching you.”

Jensen's mouth went desert dry, nothing to swallow though his throat rippled, trying to find something. Touching yeah, he figured as much but how much? He felt himself shiver and couldn't believe how deep Jared was into his character already. Maybe he was just trying to help Jensen get into his own character of the victim. It was working. He was fucking shaking. The man was intimidating, intense in every way.

“Um...” God, he couldn't even think with Jared so close. “Do I need wardrobe, or something?”

The very tips of Jared's fingertips seemed to be drawing lines across his face, freckle to freckle and Jensen found himself holding his breath as he awaited an answer. After several long seconds Jared let out a slight sigh. Jensen could see the reluctance when he stepped back. “Yeah. Come with me. I'll show you were.”

*~*~*

Jensen stepped onto the set all showered, changed and a few small touches of make-up. Jared had stood close for most of it and was rather vocal on what was or was not acceptable. The two girls fussing over Jensen's hair and face jumped with every small sound of disapproval from the tall man and only seemed to breathe whenever he offered a nod of approval. Jensen could only guess Jared held a lot more weight in the company than just one of the actors. He wanted to talk with them, just chit chat or something to ease his trepidation but neither would even meet his gaze. They worked efficiently, quickly and when they were done with barely a nod from Jared then left the room. Jensen took a moment to check out what they had done and was mildly surprised to see that he still looked exactly like himself. The hairstyle was his, not very different from what he did every morning, the makeup was light, a little kohl around his edges and mascara thickening his long lashes, bringing out the intensity of the green and the foundation used did nothing to cover up his freckles. That surprised him; the few screen tests he'd done wanted to hide his freckles. Wardrobe had consisted of a pair of low riding tight jeans and a light green t-shirt.

He spun around slowly checking out the set. They were in back of the studio in what must have at one time or another been a barn, probably a horse barn or something if Jensen were to guess from the equipment hanging around, saddles and bridles, reins and leads, a few crops and buggy whips, only instead of animals around it was filled with cameras and lighting equipment, a dozen people bustling around setting it up, directing everything towards what must be centre stage – a low beam with a few ropes hanging over it, hanging down, other ropes rolled up and hanging from hooks, a few chains hanging here and there.

A hand dropped to the back of his neck, large and warm and Jensen knew who it was even before Jared spoke. “Ready?”

He cleared his throat. “Um. What exactly do I do? Do I have any lines or anything?”

“Nothing concrete. Like I said, we ad-lib. So just go with it. Whatever I want you to do or say I'll let you know.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Obviously he didn't sound anywhere as sure as he'd hoped. Jared moved in closer, his tall body hovering so close that Jensen had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. That damned wolfish grin was back on his face. “And kid, obedience will do you well here. Do as you're told and all will be fine.”

Jensen's throat rippled hard, breath coming in the smallest pants. Obedience? Like obey him? This was sounding weirder every moment.

“You can handle that, right? You are a professional, right?”

There was a taunt in those words, a challenge, and the smirk on Jared's lips did nothing to ease Jensen's mind. This was it, this was his break. This was his chance to go from the pathetic little orphan boy no one wanted and start making something of himself. Okay, so it would be a little intense, he'd have to put up with getting tied up and probably manhandled and shit but he could do it if it meant he could make a name for himself.

“Yeah.” he said back, calling on his acting skills to sound a lot more confident than he felt. “Sure I can.”

A young woman came over and held up a small serving tray with two bottles of water. Jared took them both, handing one to Jensen and smiled. “It might be a long shoot. Wouldn't want you to get dehydrated.”

“Thanks.” His mouth was dry with the excitement and he downed it quickly, watching the final touches as some of the crew went about their business. He noticed a few glance over to him but whenever he tried to catch their eye and smile they instantly turned away.

Jeff came over; eyes scanning up and down Jensen then spoke to Jared. “I want this done in one shot if possible. Want the whole effect. That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. No problem. We have a professional working with us today.”

“Is that so?”

Jeff's eyes turned back to Jensen, but were no friendlier than the first glance. Jensen squirmed a bit under the gaze. “Alright. Get to the door. We'll start with you dragging him in.”

Jared placed the two empty water bottles on the tray as they young woman walked past again then directed Jensen into place. “Better not make me look bad, kid. I just vouched for you.”

“I won't.”

They moved just outside the open barn door, out of line and out of sight and waiting for the call. Everything within Jensen was screaming excitement and fear and he could barely contain the trembling in his body. He was about to start a scene where he had no idea what was going on and no idea what to say. But if what Jared said was true, if it was a kidnapping picture than maybe having Jensen unprepared and afraid of screwing up would only help make him look really terrified. Jared and Jeff seemed to know what they were doing and if they wanted extreme reactions to the kidnapping part of the movie this was a great way to go about it. He noticed Jared watching him, head cocked slightly, slanted hazel eyes seeing much deeper than just flesh deep.

The call came from Jeff Morgan – a sharp and loud. “Action!”


	3. Movie 1 Angel's Claiming, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True horror begins when the camera's are turned on

Before the word even cut off Jared's hand grabbed the back of Jensen's neck, gripping tight and shoved him headfirst. Hard. Jensen felt himself flying, stumbling to a knee but was up quickly, thanks to Jared's grip on his neck and arm yanking him up and forward. Jensen could do nothing but follow the strong force propelling him. The panicked warning screamed through his mind, this was too much, too fast. He wanted to tell Jared to ease up or slow down. His breath was quick; chest heaving by the time Jared twisted him around and shoved him hard, back slamming into the side of an empty horse stall where he landed with an audible grunt.

“Don't move.” he barked, yet without raising his voice. The command came from the man more than the tone sending Jensen cringed back against the wall. Jared took a step back, taking a moment to let his eyes roll down the body before him them up again, grinning, so focused on him, so intense, Jensen could almost forget the cameramen moving around him.

“Waited a long time for something as new and untouched as you.” purred Jared. Jensen swallowed hard, a shudder driving through him. Either Jared was a fucking great actor or he really meant the words coming out of his mouth.

His lips moved to speak, but Jared spoke first. “Hands up, above your head.”

Jensen tried to think fast. Would a kidnap victim obey right away? Wouldn't he fight? Wouldn't he try to negotiate? Jared's hand slapped out hard, catching Jensen's cheek with a slam that would have sent him spiralling if not for the wall at his back. He cried out, grabbing at his face. Okay, this was going too far.

“Hands up.” Jared repeated in that same intense quiet tone. Jensen thought for the quickest moment to call cut or something, to stop the scene, but he remembered Jeff's words about wanting it done in one take. He could do that. He could handle a stupid slap; he'd had worse in his life. He could prove he was a professional.

He raised his hands, body straightening as he did so.

“Good boy.” whispered Jared as he stepped in, leaning his body closer to Jensen, so close it was his warmth that Jensen felt soothing, almost comforting, and Jensen could feel it as a quiet apology for taking the scene too far. It helped Jensen swallow back some of his anxiety as Jared wrapped the ropes around his wrists, already prepared so it took little more than hooping them over Jensen's wrists and pulling tight. Jared stepped back then, grabbing a rope hanging against the wall and pulled hard, sliding through the ceiling high pulley wheel. Jensen let out a shocked yelp as the ends holding his wrists pulled higher, stretching out his body until his heels were barely able to touch the straw strewn floor. Jared tired off the rope against the wall.

Jensen shifted, trying to gain some kind of better footing, his wrists twisting in the ropes but these were no props and this was no fake set up. He licked the dryness off his lips, wide green eyes turning back to Jared but the man was grabbing something off from the side. He returned with set of leather cuffs and a black two foot long pole with hooks on the end. Jensen could do nothing but watch as Jared crouched down, attaching each cuff to his ankles.

“Spread your legs.”

He didn't realize he was obeying until he shifted, moving higher onto his toes. Jared locked in one side of the black pole to the cuff on his left ankle than jerked it sharply to the side, yanking that leg further out. Jensen yelped slightly, losing his footing and all weight dropped on his arms, shoulders crying out in sudden pain. He scrambled to get his footing, to move his feet closer but it was too late. Jared had shoved the pole between his legs and locked the other end to his right ankle. He couldn't close is legs and he balanced precariously on the balls of his feet. Any weight down only yanked harder on his shoulders with the rope cutting painfully into his wrists. His breath was quick and ragged. Jensen gathered a breath in his chest and clenched his jaw tight, trying to hide his quivering.

Jared stood, letting his eyes roam over the stretched body before him. “So, so pretty. My pretty little angel.”

His hand moved towards him, to the cheek bearing the pink palm print and Jensen flinched back. But instead of another slap Jared stroked the mark with the back of his fingers. “Oh, is the little angel scared?”

Jensen's eyes cut back, glaring. He would play his role, he would play the victim, but Jared didn't need to be so damn condescending about it. Jared laughed at his reaction, dragging his fingers across the pink flesh, down over his chin then gliding his thumb across Jensen's lips. Each action was so intimate, so much more intimate than Jensen could handle. This was way out of line.

“Stop it.”

Jared's smirk taunted and he arched a brow. “Stop what?”

“That.” He stood as tall and determined as he could to let Jared know that he was not acting, that he meant it. His eyes cut over to the cameraman only a few feet away. “Just stop it. Don't do that.”

Jared's laughter was soft and full and he turned away from Jensen, moving behind him. Jensen released a shaky breath, and turned his head, trying to see where Jared was disappearing to, but Jared was already back, moving in close, the warmth of his body that just moments before had been comforting was now alarming. The smile on his face was gone.

“I don't think I asked you to talk.” Jared grabbed a handful of Jensen's hair, yanking back so hard it stretched out his throat and he cried out in the pain as he scrambled to keep his footing. Jared's other hand rose holding a large red rubber ball with attached straps. Jensen's eyes snapped wide, he knew a ball gag when he saw one. “No!” he cried out. “Wait! No!”

Little good it did as Jared shoved the ball between his teeth, ramming it in as deep as he could and only then releasing the hair to tie the straps behind his head. Jensen's nostrils flared as his head snapped back and forth struggling, hips twisting, arms jerking on the ropes, anything to get away from Jared. Jared just rode the wave until the gag was tied tight. He was less gentle as he ran his hands across Jensen's cheek, thumb caressing suggestively across the stretched lips.

“I warned you, angel, obedience will do you well. Now I'm going to have to punish you.”

Jensen didn't think his eyes could get any wider but it seemed they could. What the hell was Jared talking about? What the fuck was going on? What kind of scene was this and what the fuck had Estelle gotten him into? He shook his head hard and grunted out his 'no' behind the gag. This was not okay, this was not acceptable. Then he froze solid where he stood.

Jared held up a knife, its metal hilt lost within the large paw but there was nothing hiding the long shining blade. Jared twisted his wrist back and forth, turning it, teasing the fear deeper out of Jensen. Jensen's brain was screaming over the same two words over and over again. 'Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!'

The cool blade caressed his cheek and the whimper seeping out of Jensen was all but caged by the ball gag. He tried so hard to be still, to do nothing to antagonize Jared anymore. He'd all but forgotten the others in the room, the cameras, the lighting, the set, the movie, Estelle, everything for that moment disappeared from his life and everything was focused on him, Jared and the blade between them.

“Now I don't like having to gag you,” Jared said softly, almost conversationally, the knife moving down the line of his strong jaw in a mock shaving motion. “I can't hear you when you're gagged.”

Jensen pressed up higher on his toes, his chin rising up as the sharp edge scrapped over his windpipe from the bottom all the way back up to his chin. “And I want to hear you, Jenny. I want to hear all the little sounds you'll make for me.”

Jensen released a stifled whimper. He didn't understand. He didn't know what was going on. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. The knife moved lower, Jensen's blinking eyes locked to Jared, watching for a sign, some understanding or some explanation. The closest he got was when the knife caught the collar of his t-shirt and pulled out hard, cutting it open. The movement was quick, jerking down and cutting clean. Cool air gasped against Jensen's belly and chest, tickling against the warmth and fear. Jared caressed the knife's edge down his body, over his collarbone, across his pectorals.

“I knew it,” Jared whispered softly, his free hand sliding down the centre of his body to rest against his hip. “So perfect, unmarked. The perfect little canvass for me, aren't you?”

Jensen looked up and saw Jared staring right back at his face. He cocked a brow, smirking, almost daring Jensen as he spoke. “That is what you want, isn't it, Jenny? Want to be a perfect canvass for my art?”

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that while Jared held a knife against his flesh? The panic drove through him. He didn't want to piss him off and he didn't want to encourage him. There was no right answer. What did Jared want from him? Fuck! What was Jared going to do to him? His eyes snapped to the glistening blade then back up to Jared, screaming out his questions from frightened eyes.

“Afraid of being cut?”

Jensen's nodded quickly, shifting slightly on his toes, the ache in his calves starting to build.

“I'll tell you what. I'll only cut you if you are a bad boy. Are you going to be a bad boy, my pretty angel?”

The heated blush crept across his face at the words, feeling the powerlessness enveloping him. He lowered his eyes and shook his head. Jared pressed the flat of the knife under his chin and raised it, giving Jensen no choice but to look into Jared's eyes. Jared's words dripped of superiority. “If I put the knife down will you be a good boy for me?”

Jensen heard the words in the question that were not spoken aloud – would he be obedient, would he do as he was told? He closed his eyes, unable to look at Jared as he answered. Then nodded, feeling the flat of the blade holding his chin up. Seconds passed and finally unable to not look anymore Jensen opened his eyes, swallowing hard at the sight before him. The smirking grin, the coldness in the deep hazel eyes, the absolute dominance of the being before him, it was too much and he released a whimper. Part fear, part pleading, but mostly giving in.

“Good boy.”

Jensen cringed at the words, mostly because despite his shame he also felt relief to hear them. Jared pulled the knife away and jammed it hard, suddenly, into the wood of the stall less than a foot away from the Jensen's dangling body. Jensen got the message loud and clear – the knife was close if needed again.

His wide frightened eyes never left Jared as Jared stepped closer, hands, both free, explored the flesh, touching every inch of his chest, pinching at his waist, sliding slowly up the sides, then finding his nipples, nails scratching and playing until both bloomed to life into small, hard little nubs. Jensen turned his head away, eyes snapping shut, not wanting to face the pleasure the gentle touch was pulling from his body. He'd never been touched, never felt the thrill of another person's hands on his body. But it shouldn't be like this, and it shouldn't be from a man.

Jared's fingers pinched hard and Jensen cried out, back arching to thrust his chest forward, not that it helped. The fingers twisted, stretching the flesh and pulled Jensen's chest even higher, to the tips of his toes. The loud cries barely blocked behind the ball gag did nothing to stop Jared's actions.

“Do not hide your eyes from me.”

Jensen's head snapped back, blinking wetness from his eyes and locked to Jared's face, nostrils flaring. Jared released his grip and returned to the gentle touches, thumbs brushing away the worst of the sting. “There you go. See, obedience. Obedience pleases me. And I know you want to please me, don't you?”

Jensen nodded his head quickly, though how true his answer was he didn't know. He didn't want to please Jared; he just wanted to get this over. This scene was way too intense, nothing he could understand for the movie he was supposed to be doing.

“Good boy.” It was another condescending affirmation that shouldn't ease Jensen's mind as much as it did. He struggled in a deep breath through his nose and tried to remain as still as possible. Not easy, shifting again on his toes, weight momentarily dropping a bit only to stretch the muscles on his arms. Which was worse – the stretch of his shoulders or the stretch of his calves? His limbs shivered as he struggled to keep himself from dropping too low yet his legs were losing strength to hold him up.

Jared was reaching behind him again and that had yet to be a good thing. All Jensen could do was wait and see whatever nasty was coming next. But it couldn't possibly be any worse, could it?

Obviously it could.

Jared stretched each nipple one at a time, dropping down to suck each until they were hard and tight, stretching the flesh with his teeth then closed the camps onto them. Jensen's cries behind the gag were loud and pained and his body twisted. Jared pulled at the chain between the clamps. “Love how you dance for me, pretty angel. We're going to have to do more of that before the day is through.”

Jensen felt drool slither down his chin and drip to his throat. It was humiliating when Jared trailed a thumb up the taut flesh and rubbed the wetness back into him. The pain in his nipples was dulling into a heated throb and Jensen dropped his head back, only for a moment to gather what thoughts he could. His head snapped back up as Jared's hand rubbed down his body, over his belly, and then caught in the waist of his jeans.

Jensen grunted around the gag, twisting his hips hard to escape Jared. Jared just yanked harder on the cloth, holding him in place. Grinning eyes locked with shocked eyes as the button of the jeans was snapped open. Jensen only growled louder, his 'no' almost audible, but Jared didn't stop. Instead he slowly lowered the zipper. Jensen's hips snapped side to side. He wanted to scream. This couldn't be happening. This was so wrong in so many. He wanted out of this scene, out of this job and he didn't care if he never got to act again. He had to get out of there.

Jared's hand grabbed at the chain at his chest and yanked it hard, twisting it in his fist and listened to the gagged screams of the boy before him. Jensen couldn't stop the tears anymore and felt them well over, fire screaming through his chest, clamps threatening to rip off the nipples. When Jared finally let go he dropped back against the wall, silent sobs raking his body, nostrils flaring again and again as he fought to catch his breath. Jared leaned in, licking a trail up his cheek, licking away his tears.

“Are you going to be still for me this time?”

Jensen released a sob; he couldn't believe what Jared expected. How could he expect him to stay still when he was about to...God, he didn't even know. Was this a movie or not? It had to be. There were cameras and people and all these people watching all the things Jared was doing and why was no one stopping it? Didn't they see that Jared was really hurting him and that this had gone too far and he never agreed to do nudity and never would because people would see him, people who knew him, all those people who said he was worthless and pathetic and that no one wanted him when he was growing up and now they would see him hurt and naked and it was too much he had to get out of there, he had to stop this!

The hand gripped under his jaw tight and hard, jerking his head up to Jared and the older man was an inch from his face. “Pretty angel falling apart for me already?”

Jensen couldn't help it; the tears fell and sobbed out. What did that even mean?

Jared's ran his fingers through Jensen's hair gently, easing him through the panic infecting him. It was calming and before he even knew what was happening, Jensen leaned into the touch. But then Jared wrapped both his large paws on either side of his face and turned his tear stained eyes up. “This is going to happen, pet, whether you want it to or not. How hard it's going to be will depend on how much you fight me. Do you understand that?”

Jensen shook his head from side to side. No, he didn't understand. This was supposed to be a movie, his big break, his chance to be something. He never agreed to any of this, he never asked for it or wanted it. Estelle knew he would never allow nudity, Estelle knew how afraid he was of even having to do love scenes so none of this made any sense. His eyes begged Jared to explain, begged him for understanding, and begged him to stop this.

“Enough of this crap, Jared. Get to it.” barked Jeff from somewhere behind Jared. Jared turned his head to answer but his eyes never left Jensen. “Relax, babe. You can edit this all out later.”

Jared returned his attention back to Jensen. “Obey me and I'll make sure you enjoy this. Keep fighting me and I will make sure it hurts worse than anything you could even imagine. And I'll hurt you in places you really don't want to be hurt. Do you understand that?”

Jensen whimpered, his body trembling even harder in the hands of the tall man. No one was going to stop this. No one was going to help him. They would all just stand there and watch whatever Jared would do. He had to find a way to get through this, find a way to endure it, survive it. Isn't that what Jared had said right at the beginning? They were going for reaction, the victim just trying to endure and survive. Jensen just hadn't realized what he was supposed to be surviving. This was going to happen and he couldn't stop it. He nodded shakily. He didn't have any other choice.

“Good boy.” he whispered softly, this time smiling gently.

Jared's hand slid up Jensen's belly and played a moment with a nipple clamp. Jensen's head snapped back, mewling around the gag, his body writhing on the ropes as pain burst back to life on his chest. A choked muffled plea pushed out. Jared's other hand cupped his cheek, the thumb dragging along the drool coating the stretched bottom lip.

“I want to take this off. If I remove this though, do you promise to be a good boy for me?”

Jensen nodded quickly, watery eyes seeking out Jared's, wanting to show him honesty. Maybe if he could get the gag off he could get them to stop the shoot, to let him down. Maybe someone else in the room would make it stop. But before his hope could even begin to blossom, Jared patted his cheek. “Okay then, pet. I'm going to hold you to that. Disappoint me and I'll just have to punish you again.”

Jensen shuddered at the thought, but said nothing, even after Jared had unbuckled the gag and slipped the ball out, more drool spilling over and dribbling down his chin, tendrils decorating his throat and dropping to his chest. He gasped in deep breaths through his mouth as he rolled his aching jaw, swallowing – and did it feel good to be able to swallow freely. Jared raised an opened bottle of water to his lips and tilted it back. Jensen swallowed back desperately, the water cold and refreshing and for a single solitary moment he let it pacify him. But as soon as the bottle was pulled away Jared's hand gripped the chain of the clamps and held it taut. Jensen's chest thrust into it, trying to ease the pull and whimpered out his fear.

“What do you say when someone does something nice for you, pretty angel?”

“Thank you.”

The chain jerked sharply, more of a warning than anything else but the blast of pain was enough to send his body jerking on the ropes. “Thank you, what?”

Jensen's mind raced, unsure, wanting to get it right, wanting the pain to stop. His only reference was growing up in so many different homes with so many different expectations, but there were a few similarities. “Thank you, sir?”

“Very good, pet.”

Jared released the chain and caressed his cheek softly. His hands dropped to Jensen's jeans again, parting the already opened zipper. Jensen felt his heart pounding in his chest and started to turn his head away as the jeans shoved down but then remembered Jared's earlier reaction when he'd turned his eyes away. He wanted to scream at him to stop yet was too afraid it would bring back the gag or worse, more pain. He didn't know what to do and ended up doing nothing but hang there, shifting on his trembling aching legs, shuddering as the jeans and boxers were pushed down as far as the bound legs would allow, stopping at his knees. Silent shame-filled tears trailed down his cheeks. Jared moved aside as a cameraman moved in for a closer shot of Jensen's flaccid cock. Jared laughed softly.

“Poor little angel isn't having any fun.”

The hand on his cock sent his body jolting, and he dropped back against the wall, pressing into it, weight jerking painfully between bound arms and stretched thighs. “Please don't.” burst out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Instead of anger at the words Jared just wrapped his hand tighter, pulling lazily. “Don't find me sexy, Jen.”

Jensen cringed at the words, how could he answer without upsetting the man who held his cock in his hand? “I'm not... It's not...I'm... I'm not gay.”

The fingers were experienced, the palm warm and promising, the touches sure. Using his left hand Jared cupped and weighed Jensen's balls, fingertips tickling at the flesh just behind. Jensen's eyes closed. His hips twisted. No, this wasn't right. This couldn't be happening. He'd never even looked at a guy, never once thought of a guy. His body shouldn't be responding. He shuddered hard as he heard Jared's dark chuckle.

“You sure about that?”

He fought his body's urge to press into the palm, feeling the twitching as his cock came more and more to life. A low frightened whine caught in the back of his throat. “God... please... stop.”

Jared jerked him harder, the cock lengthening in his grip until it became near impossible for Jensen to be still. He stumbled on his cuffed and locked legs, the ache turning into cramps and his body dropped all weight onto his arms as the first hitch of his hips thrust the cock forward.

Jared slapped the cock hard. Jensen cried out and bucked under the pain.

“Don't move without permission, angel.”

Jensen's eyes squeezed as tight as he clenched his body down. He didn't want to move, however, just hearing the command made his ache to do it all that stronger. The hand slapped hard again and the pain shot through him. Jensen's body twisted on the ropes.

“Eyes open.”

He snapped his eyes wide, gasping hard, the heat from the slaps spread through the flesh of his cock, sending confusing rushes through him. His mouth dropped open, sucking in deep gulps of air, tension tripping in his belly, churning and heating and crackling down his spine.

“Oh God.” he whined.

“Well, well, well, who would have thought the little angel could be such a horny little bitch.”

As Jared palmed his cock again, Jensen's head rocked back and he had to pull it forward, his hips shifting, dancing on the pained toes. The need within growing sharper, more focused, and despite his suffering he could barely keep himself still. Jared's thumb rubbed over the head, catching a few beads of pre-come and spreading the wetness back down the shaft. “Fuck.” he hissed out.

Jared moved in closer, his body pressing up against Jensen's side, making sure he did nothing to block the view of the camera. “Hump away, bitch.”

The words released something within and even if he wanted to Jensen could do nothing to stop himself from moving. His hips thrust forward, driving him deeper into the now wet palm, moaning slightly.

“You like that. Like slutting yourself in front of the camera?”

Jensen's eyes blinked away the fog he'd drifted into and he remembered the camera, shame burned up his chest and through his face. It was too strong and he twisted his face into Jared's shoulder. Jared pulled off and away, removing the warmth of his body, stealing away the comfort of his shoulder, leaving Jensen's cock to bounce against his belly. The cameraman moved in closer. Heat crawled hot and blazing up Jensen's body and burned into his cheeks as the camera tilted up to catch all of his shame from cock to face. He couldn't help it and turned his eyes away, he couldn't face this, couldn't face that there would always be a permanent record of this. Jared's fingers tangled in his hair and yanked his gaze back, forcing him to look directly into the camera. He sobbed out, tears running freely down the crimson burning his cheeks. “Smile pretty, angel. Show them all what a slut you are. Show them all what gets a bitch like you so hot and needy.”

Jensen couldn't speak, couldn't even cry, hell, he could barely breathe and he silently begged Jared to not do this to him. As the cameraman pulled back and returned to his previous position Jared wrapped a leather cock-ring around the flushed swollen flesh. Jensen's eyes widened and glanced down, blinking, confused. He shook his head, less of a denial of what was there than what it meant. “Wait...no. What...?”

Jared wrapped an arm around his waist and reached for the rope tied off to the side. As soon as it freed and the tension in his arms released Jensen's body crumbled, his legs no longer able to hold him. Jared caught his weight and lowered him to the floor. “You want to come you're going to have to work for it, slut.”

Jensen's arms dropped down, leaden and momentarily useless and his body sunk to the floor, muscles overly stretched and raw screamed in agony along with the cramping and strained calves and thighs. All Jensen wanted to do was curl up in his pain and shame, to just be left alone.

He cried out, body twisting hard on the floor as a line of fire cut across his back.

“All right, pet. Move it.”

He barely had time to look back and see as Jared's arm raised again, gripping a riding crop tight and slashing down, catching the curve of his ass. Jensen's back arched, cry cut off as he scrambled to his hands and knees to move, not an easy task with his legs locked to the unforgiving spreader bar all tangled up in his jeans. The crop lashed down again, drawing a perfect line of fire across his thigh and he shifted fast, forcing deadened limbs to move. He started to push up onto his feet when a hand shoved between his shoulder blades, throwing him back down. “Crawl, bitch.”

Jensen's mind screamed and panicked as he scurried forward, tears blinding and he had no idea where he was going. All he wanted was to move as fast as possible so the pain would stop.

“Please!” he cried out as another two quick stoked drove him forward. “Please stop!”

Jared drove him one way and then another and Jensen was sure it was not a direct path. The cameras followed along with Jared's laughter and taunting words each time he nearly banged into a wall or a support beam. The straw eased the misery on his knees but he still scraped them mercilessly as he struggled to obey. Only when his ass, thighs and back were lined with stripes and he was gasping breathless did Jared finally stop him near the centre of the barn. Jared tossed the crop off to a corner and grabbed a handful of hair.

“Up, slut, let's see if you enjoyed that.”

The grip yanked up and Jensen scrambled to his feet as fast as his exhausted body could rise. “Hands behind your head.”

Stealing a quick second to wipe tears from his face and eyes, licking at his lips, then he quickly obeyed, feeling the stretch of his body, aches and pains igniting everywhere and he could do nothing but watch as not one but two separate cameramen circled him slowly, focusing not only on the new stripes of pink and red across his body but they also took long moments to focus on the hand gripping his still hard cock locked in the cock-ring. Jared stroked Jensen's cock slowly.

“Looks like our little angel enjoyed that.”

“No.” whimpered Jensen, knees pulling closer though it did nothing to close his thighs, the spreader bar kept them wide apart. There was nothing he could do to hide his shame as Jared displayed it so vulgarly. Jared gripped Jensen's chin and forced his gaze up. “You going to tell me you didn't enjoy that?”

He shook his head more vigorously. “No, I don't...”

“Then tell me why you're still so hard? Look at this. Could hammer a nail into a wall.”

“I...I don't know. Please. It's wrong...”

“Oh yes, it's very wrong. Thought you were a little angel and find out your just a dirty little painslut. Well, maybe I should give you more.”

Panic drove the shudder through him and instinct more than anything sent him reeling. Hands dropped to Jared chest, gripping his shirt tight. “Please no more. I'll be good. I promise. Don't hurt me anymore. Please.”

Jared sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it a bit, as if in deep thought. “Want to be good for me?”

Jensen nodded quickly, knowing full well that whatever Jared was thinking he would regret, but if it meant no more pain he would endure. “Yes, please.”

A hand gripped his balls hard, twisting them up against his body. “What was that?”

Jensen's words rushed out before he could stop them. “Please, sir. I want to be good for you!”

The grip released and Jensen could do no more than gasp as the pain slowly faded. His chin quivered violently, his body shivering and he clutched desperately to the cloth at Jared's chest like a lifeline, feeling as if only he could hold on then perhaps the man would show some mercy. There had to be some kindness within him. He couldn't possibly be this cruel.

Jared caressed the side of Jensen's face, touches so gentle that for a moment or two the boy could actual believe his wish could come true, but there was as much malice in the kindness as there had been in the cruelty. It was confirmed when Jared finally spoke, as much to the camera as he did to Jensen.

“Alright, pet. You have been so very good for me today that I'll make you a deal. I want to flog you. I won't use the rubber flogger so it won't hurt as much. I think that's only fair since it's your first time. I'll even bind you so you won’t have to stay still and take it. Just to make it easier on you.”

Jensen released a sob, cowering as he trembled. He couldn't take anymore. He opened his mouth to beg only to be cut off before he got a word out. “The flogging is going to happen. Which flogger I use is up to whether or not you ask nicely.”

Jensen's head dropped forward, tears running freely. This was no choice. Pain was still coming. Jared caught his chin again and raised it to force the boy to face him. “And if you are a very good boy for me and take your flogging well then we'll take care of this.”

His hand wrapped tight, stroking, deep full strokes pulling the full length of Jensen's cock and despite everything, despite the pain and the shame his hips bucked under the touch. He couldn't believe how deeply his body betrayed him. He nodded silently.

Talented fingers massaged his balls and Jensen bit back a moan as the deep timbered words whispered into his ear. “Ask for it, my horny little angel. Ask to dance at the end of my flogger.”

“Please.” whispered Jensen, no louder than Jared had whispered, hips rocking into the constant urging of the stroking grip. Jared's voice betrayed his amusement. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to hurt you and make you come?”

“Yes.” Jensen whispered, voice dropping lower. What else could he answer that would not make it worse? What else could he say that would not displease Jared? “Please sir, please do it. Please make me dance for you.”

“Only since you asked so nice.”

Jared stepped back, pulling the chain hanging from the centre beam of the room. The leather cuffs already attached matched the ankle cuffs holding his legs wide with the bar. Jensen swallowed repeatedly as he watched spry fingers buckling them tight. They were then clipped together and pulled high above his head, only this time Jensen's feet remained planted firmly on the ground. In fact, there was even a little leeway for his arms so nothing stretched beyond limits as it did earlier. Jared disappeared behind him and Jensen didn't even bother to look, instead he took deep breaths, trying to call on courage or strength or something he didn't have anymore. He blinked his eyes out of focus, not wanting to see the cameras or the men behind them. He did nothing to acknowledge as one moved behind him, knowing full well it would record every second of his suffering as would the one that remained in front of him; one to watch the damage on the flesh and the other to watch the misery in his face. He didn't even want to know what kind of people would watch a movie like this. His tears had dried up and his face felt tight with salty tackiness. The cock throbbed relentlessly yet not as intensely and he couldn't even allow his mind to try and fathom how he could be hard through all this.

Jared pressed his chest up against Jensen's back, one arm coiling around his belly and holding him tight, the other bringing the flogger around and holding it in front of his face. It was black and red, the handle baring intricate designs of braided leather; tendrils evenly cut slices of soft leather. Jared brought it closer to his face.

“Kiss it and ask for me to begin.”


	4. Movie 1 Angel's Claiming, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy is beyond Jensen's expectations and he will have him, every part of him. So much better with Jensen fighting every step of the way.

There was something about holding a quaking body, one not aching to serve but subject to it that would always be the biggest thrill for Jared and there was something in the little whelp he held in his arms that sent unstoppable pleasure through the tall man. The boy was gorgeous, there was no doubt about it, but when he cried he became something that transcended pure beauty. Easily the camera loved him almost as much as the many thousands of customers would. This boy would make them a fortune, no doubt about it. More than the last two 'gems' combined. Seems that old cow knew something about beauty and talent after all.

He held the flogger out before the quivering lips and held Jensen tight, letting his own warmth be what would soothe the boy. A mixture of pain and pleasure, suffering and comfort. This Jared knew well, how to train the body and mind to obey his wishes, his wants, and his depraved desires. Behind him he knew Jeff was becoming impatient, the whole shot was taking much longer than it should but he didn't care. He was having much too much fun watching the boy tremble and cry, revelling in the creatures confusion at his own body's reactions and hungers, and just absolutely delighting in his almost desperate obedience to earn even the slightest reprieve from whatever else Jared could come up with. Just watching Jensen's struggles to understand what was going on, his almost naive acceptance in the beginning to, the internal battle which played out so clearly on the young man's face as to whether he should stop what was happening, then realization that he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Incredible delicious; that helplessness and hopelessness that he wore like a shroud about his crumbling psyche only to lap up the tiniest bits of affection like the battered pup he so obviously was. Jared had trained many, used and abused countless dozens in private and even more so in front of the camera, but he'd never found such a wounded, beaten pup as this one in his arms.

Jared was enthralled.

The swollen wet lips pressed against the leather and Jared waited only seconds before he felt more than heard a silent sob and then the soft tender voice spoke directly to his dick. “Please begin, sir.”

The boy was a quick learner. Jared rubbed his wide palm across Jensen’s back, warming and calming the flesh, mind already seeing the welts and marks he would leave. He moved back, stepping easily into place to give the camera the best view and raised his arm, then slicing down, watching the dozen tendrils of leather cut through the air and snap across the flesh. Jensen's body jerked forward and released the smallest cry, not too loud and it only pleased Jared all the more. He'd chosen, perhaps in a moment of kindness, to actually give the kid a bit of a warm-up. He wanted to introduce him to the pleasures of pain as much as to the shame of enduring it for the camera. He stepped back in, running his hand over the worst of the marked pink flesh knowing that it would wipe away some of the sting. Then sliding his hand around the body he found the still hard cock, its erection locked tight in the cock-ring. He could tell the boy had no experience with cock-rings, not even in theory, or he might have realized that his erection would not wilt until freed. It wasn't pleasure keeping him erect, it was blood. It took less than a handful of strokes to get the boy shifting again, grinding his hips forward into each pull on his cock.

“Like the pain, do you? Look how hard my little painslut angel gets being whipped. Let's see how hard we can get you.”

He stepped back into place again, offering a smirk to the camera and brought his hand down, not even hesitating. Taking his full pleasure in the small cries and twisting body he whipped again over and over again. He moved with a practised hand, lining the flesh with the most pleasing little pink lines across his back and wrapping around the curve of his ass. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he wanted and he paused again. The boy was gasping and whimpering almost continuously when he pressed into Jensen’s back again, only now the beaten flesh sent warmth right through his clothing. He dragged a hand down the quivering belly and scratched nails in the boy’s pubic hair.

“Want me to touch you, my slutty little angel?”

Jensen's head dropped back, displaying the tears that painted his blushing cheeks and how could Jared refuse an offer like that? He leaned down, his own pink tongue flickering out and lapping up each tear with soft kitten licks, rolling his own hips into the boys welted flesh, grinding his own rock hard cock into his victim. “Ask me for it, pet. Ask me to make you come from pain and pleasure. Show the world what a delicious little painslut you are and this can be over.”

The sob sent a shudder through Jared deeper than any bolt of lightning could ever inflict and he wanted inside this boy, he needed to claim him more completely than anyone he'd ever held in his arms before. But when the boy did no more than whimper out another desperate sob it became stronger than Jared to contain.

“Stupid move, pet.” he hissed and with a growl he stepped back. He did not like being displeased, disappointed or disobeyed and it was time Jensen learned true obedience. He raised his arm again, this time not holding back and lay in the lashes with brutal force. Jensen cried out as his body arched hard, only to drive Jared on further, focusing each lash across his perfect ass, his arm flailing with experience, lash after lash, knowing full well the body's recoil would force his hips forward, the hard cock locked in leather left to dance against his belly as the boy danced on the ropes holding him in place. The camera would be gathering each twist and grind, each buck and thrust and recording every yelp and cry, every sob and scream, all a perfectly orchestrated opera that only encouraged Jared more. The beating lasted longer than it should have, and would have to be edited down later to fit within the allotted time for the movie, but Jared could not care less. This was less about a show for the camera than it was for Jensen to learn to give Jared what was his right.

“Please!” Jensen’s screams finally broke through to Jared wrath. Finally he stopped, gasping, his arm muscles complaining from the sudden workout and he had to uncoil his tight grip, finger by finger from the handle of the flogger. He leaned into the body, burning heat on the rounded curved buttocks pressing into Jared's groin. His free hand dropped to the still hard cock in front of the camera. He gripped hard, squeezing as he stroked it quickly.

“Fucking little whore needs to learn obedience.”

“I'm sorry!” Jensen sobbed hard; breath hitching. “Please! I'm sorry. I won't do it again.”

Jared threw the flogger to the floor, something he'd never done with this particular one, his favourite, and slapped a hard open palm into the welted flesh of the boy's thigh.

“Bullshit.” his cold, quiet voice filled the sudden silence as the boy's wails choked inside him. He slammed his palm down again only to be rewarded with another wail and a thrashing body under him. The boy’s broken voice cried out.

“Please, sir, please forgive me. I'll do better.”

Jared stopped his slaps, stilled his body and just thrived a moment in the boy’s surrender, his squirming misery, the gasping desperation of each breath. He coiled his fingers and dragged his nails up the side of the flesh, pinching a little into a welt here or there. “Why should I forgive you, slut?”

The boy's head hung low, the misery hidden away and before he could answer Jared dipped under his outstretched arms to come around to his front. He grabbed his boy's hair back to bring those delightfully, terrified, tear-stained eyes up. Pure perfection, more beautiful than any creature had a right to be. Jensen crumbled back, chin quivering so violently it was almost as if it were no longer connected. Jensen swallowed, throat rippling and his eyes fought to turn away, to close or to hide from him, but he kept them open for Jared, and the vulnerability of it all almost made Jared loose it right there. He didn't care about the camera or the dozen or so others in the room, in fact he had all but forgotten them, but he could never forget Jeff and his ever watchful eyes. Nor would he forget that what Jeff gives he could easily take away. He forced himself to take a deep breath, to regain some of his control.

“Answer me.”

“I... I don't know.” Jensen's head tilted, dipping, shamed and resigned at not even knowing his own worth. As clear as anything else Jared had read on the boy's face since the moment they met in the office was that realization, and Jared could no longer resist one small indulgence. He tilted the boy's chin up and dropped down, kissing him deeply. Jensen froze, his whole being a single, solid, shivering mass and it took a long moment before he responded to the tongue slipping between his tear soaked lips. He didn't fight it nor did he embrace it, but he endured it and that made it all that much sweeter for Jared. He had no doubt this boy had no desire for men, no wants or wishes to explore, yet he would endure with such incredible submission. Jared grabbed a handful of hair and tilted Jensen's head allowing him to delve deeper into the depths, tongue seeking out the timid muscle and coiling them together, feeding off the hesitant gasps of breath slipping out between each kiss. When finally he broke away both were left breathless, eyes locking and in those eyes Jared found the first soul he has ever truly wanted to decimate.

“Delicious.” he purred darkly.

Jensen flinched back at the sound as much as any slap would have inflicted, a look of pure dread washed over the angelic features and Jared had no doubt the boy could read his intentions as easily as he could read the boy's aversion. His lips curled into a smirk, dimples winking in all their splendour and he knew the innocence of his face and the cruelty of his eyes could shatter even the strongest man's courage. He rose to his full height, shivering as he watched Jensen cowering deeper into himself and he grabbed the younger man's chin, jerking up, stretching out his neck to press his large palm around his throat. His grip tightened, feeling the ripple of fear wash through the tense flesh.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Oh God. Please no!” begged the innocent before him and Jared clenched just a bit tighter, knowing the small gasps of wheezing breaths were all could get through. He leaned low, faces so very close and grinned. “Are you denying me?”

“No!” he wheezed out, eyes so wide and terrified. He could only imagine how dark and hungry his own eyes must look. He released the throat and moved over to where his whips hung. His fingers caressed the hard braided leather of the bullwhip, a truly cruel implement that even he was hesitant to use. The threat was enough and the babbling began almost instantly. “Please sir, please fuck me. Please don't whip me. I'll be good. I'll obey. I'll do whatever you want. Please don't whip me anymore.”

Jared could barely contain his glee and grinned, dropping his hand from the bullwhip and picking up the small tube of lube. “Again.”

Jensen's head dropped back as the tears welled over and slithered so freely down his blushing face. “Please fuck me, sir. Please. I want you to.”

Jared could only imagine the angel's dilemma and it made his cock throb mercilessly caged in his leather pants. He stepped behind the boy.

“Again!”

The boy's sounds reached near hysterics as she cried out. “Fuck me. Please. Please. I'm begging you to fuck me.”

Jared released his cock in seconds and with barely a glance to anything but the suffering whelp he squeezed out gobs of untold amounts of lube onto his palm, slicking himself quickly. His left hand grabbed Jensen's thigh, the right smearing leftover lube down the welted crease of his ass. Jensen's frightened whine filled the silent room and his body jolted, more instinct than defiance but Jared didn't care. His fingers dug cruelly into the flesh, jerking his hips back and shoved two fingers into the virgin hole. Jensen's howls screamed through the room and he bucked hard at the invasion. Jared followed easily, years of experience of taking what was not freely given and he twisted his wrist, scissoring his fingers, spreading and stretching unused flesh. When he pulled his fingers out he knew the innocent, shy angel before him was far from ready, the prep would offer so little against what was to come and just the thought of that made Jared need to grip the base of his own cock to keep from losing it.

“Again.” he barked into the sobbing soul before him. And Jensen, despite his pain and misery obeyed, albeit, not with the same desperation his fear of the bullwhip had induced.

“Please just do it. Just get it over with. Fuck me please, sir, and make this all stop.”

Jared laughed at the thought, spreading the welted cheeks. As he lined up against the tiny hole and pressed in slowly, forcing past the clenching muscles, Jensen's whine burst out of him, a constant stream of misery. Jared's eyes rolled back in his head, the tightness near strangled his cock, and paused, more for his own sake than the trembling mass of damaged flesh and broken spirit before him. He gripped both hips, digging in harsh, knowing his fingerprints would mark the boy as well as had the whip's lashes and he shoved forward again, forcing in inch after inch. Jared, being a large man, a proportional man, knew well the agony he was inflicting to not only an unprepared hole but a virgin one at that and he gasped out, driving into the warm tight heat until finally he was completely sheathed in his not so innocent angel. He paused again, knowing he wouldn't last long in such perfection and reached around, his large fist wrapping around the boy's cock and stroked.

The boy, momentarily lost in his own misery spoke without thinking. “Please, fuck no!” With every bit of desperation he begged for the end of pain. “Please don't make me!”

Instead of displeasure the words sent a new volley of excitement through his tormentor. “Oh yes, my little painslut. You are going to come while I fuck you. Show the world how much you love my cock up your ass.”

“No. No you can't do this. Don't do this. I don't want this. Please make it stop.”

His hand only stripped faster, driving the pleasure out of him and damned be the boy's own desires. Jared's hips began thrusting, at first erratically, seeking out a rhythm the tight hole could handle, forcing it to stretch with each thrust and each grind, slipping out until all but the head remain and slamming back inside with every ounce of strength he had only to be rewarded with the screams of agony and the gasps of pleasure, both ripped out of Jensen with equal ferocity. He reached down, releasing the cock-ring and dropping it to the floor. His hand fisted the boy faster, Jensen’s hips humped just as eagerly as Jared's own hips. He could feel the hot meat in his palm throbbing and knew the boy to be close, as close as he himself. And he waited, timed it, knowing the cameras and Jeff and the entire perverted world would see the boy's violation and so many would jerk off to it. Jared could barely hold back just thinking of how many would take as much pleasure in this as he himself did, but he wanted, hell, he needed to take this last thing from the boy and he pumped ceaselessly. His thumb coiled over the head, smearing the pre-come and digging a nail into the slit. That was all it took and Jensen cried out. His body seizing up hard, tight asshole clenching even tighter around Jared cock and he shuddered violently. Before the second shot of come could shoot out of Jensen, Jared grabbed the chain of the near forgotten clamps and yanked hard, ripped both off the tortured nipples and the body bucked so hard beneath him it was almost as if he'd been zapped by a hundred bolts of lightning. The power pulled Jared across the threshold and he came hard and wild, more intense than he'd ever known in his life, thrashing each and every shot of come from the depths of his being into the tainted angel, marking him, scenting him, claiming him.

His hand shot out to grab a rope to hold him up; the other clutching around Jensen's near unconscious body as both men gulped desperately for air. Somewhere far off Jared heard voices, in another room, or another world for all he knew in that minute.

“Uh... Jeff?” the AD whispered.

“Huh? Oh... Fuck. Right. Cut.”

Jared blinked slowly, and even slower he came back to himself and pulled his weight up by the rope. The boy beneath him was beyond able to help himself and Jared held him close to his chest, able to feel his pounding heart through his body and through the clothes Jared never bothered to remove. Several of the crew rushed over to help and someone released the bonds holding Jensen in place. Jared finally released him into the arms of others and brushed his sweaty hair back with both hands. Jeff was beside him, grinning. Jared grinned back.

“Okay.” chuckled Jeff. “You can keep him.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen finally finds out what's really going on

Before Jensen was even awake a pained whimper gasped from his lips. Just the slightest movement and his muscled screamed out protest. His eyes squeezed tight, his sleep-induced, muzzled mind taking a moment to remember why he was in a bed and why his body ached. Without thinking he rolled from his left side onto his back and his cry filled the room. Pain fluttered reminders across the flesh of his back, thighs and ass but the intense throbbing of fire bursting instantly from his nether hole was all he needed to remember. To remember everything. His eyes snapped wide, at first unfocused but blinking quickly, chasing away the last of sleep and confusion. Well, most of the confusion. A lifetime of being shunted around from foster home, to group home, to wherever they had to dump him for a night or two had taught him to breathe in his surroundings in seconds. He was in a large soft bed, definitely not the lumpy smelly mattress he'd been calling his for the last couple of months at the hotel. The unstained pearl white walls confirmed that. He winced, forcing himself to ignore the jab of pain and shifted again on the bed, taking in the rest of the room. It was a large bedroom, but so void of anything personal it could be a hotel room, he really didn't know. His head dropped back to the large snugly pillow and he fought the urge to just lie there and allow his body to recover, to allow his eyes to flicker closed and call the comfort of sleep back. It would be so easy to surrender to the void of unconsciousness but he couldn't. He had to get out of there. He had to get in touch with Estelle and tell her what happened.

But could he do that? How could he even find words to explain to the older motherly woman what had happened to him, what Jared had done to him? His body burned with shame as thoughts of Jared's hands on him, of the cameras watching and recording every vile thing Jared had done or Jared had made him do. His being burned hotter as he thought of the words Jared had forced out of him, the begging. Oh God! He had begged Jared for it and it would forever be recorded. People would see. Tears burned at his eyes and he did nothing to stop them as they slipped out and down the sides of his face, tickling into the shells of both ears. Hands grabbed at his face, chest hitching as he fought the sobs aching for freedom. Oh fucking Christ!

He had to get out of there. He had to escape before Jared came back. He didn't know if they were done with him, didn't know if they would stop him, but Jensen was not going to take any chances. He flipped the blanket off and saw that he was naked. Cleaned, but naked. His body shuddered, millions of thoughts of what could have been done to him if he was so out of it that they could have cleaned him without him even being aware. But why bother to take advantage of him when unconscious when Jared had no problem doing whatever he wanted while Jensen was awake.

A soft groan broke the silence in the room as Jensen moved, pain rolling through him, reminding him of ever swat of the crop, every slice of the flogger as skin shifted around moving muscles. The pain between his legs shot up through his spine when he finally made it to a sitting position. His eyes snapped closed, breathing, forcing his breath to move deep and slow through his lungs, focusing on something he could actually control when it felt as if there was nothing else in the universe he could. Not here, not when he knew Jared was close. He had no idea why he knew that or how, but he knew. Jared was somewhere outside the closed door of the bedroom, how close or far he could only guess. He had to get out before Jared decided to come back.

Movement was slow, too slow, and he had to force his body to stretch out both muscles and skin, all aches and pains momentarily bursting into sunspots of fire throughout his body but then with the controlled breathing and forcing his body to relax into the pain, to breathe it in and accept it as his, to feel it spreading through his skin, the burn dulled into slower softer throbs warming his body. Again, he was reminded how childhood should not make one so accepting that he counts among his attributes how well he could take a punch and get through whatever pain life handed him.

His clothes were nowhere to be seen and he moved to a bureau, randomly pulling out drawers. The clothes inside were larger than he needed and somehow he knew this must be Jared's room, these must be his clothes, his things, but he refused to think further on that, ignoring a niggling curiosity to search. He grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants, yanking them up his stiff, tense body and tied it at the waist. They were far too long and he had to pull the elastic over his feet, leaving them ballooning at his ankles. Then he grabbed a hoodie, ignoring the t-shirts, he wanted something to cover him, something that he could sink into and soak up even more warmth over his battered body. Air hissed through clenched teeth as the soft baby blue cloth glided over his tortured nipples, and his hands grasped at his chest. It took a long moment to breathe through the misery left behind. He grabbed socks, but instead of sitting to put them on he leaned against the bureau carefully, not wanting to sit and reawaken pain, not wanting to think of what Jared had done, what he had stolen, what he had inflicted, what he'd make Jensen beg for. His eyes avoided the mirror, not ready yet to see what changes would be there; scared to look into the eyes, his own eyes, and seeing the victim he used to be looking back. When he'd run away he'd sworn he would never allow himself to be a victim again, never allow anyone power over him, never let them hurt him again. He did not want to face how he had failed.

His steps were silent across the room and he moved first to the window. It was bright, what looked like the freshness of morning, perhaps. He was higher than expected, he guessed third floor but he recognized the street below him. In fact, he recognized the very bench he'd sat on only the day before when he'd waited outside for Estelle to finish her meeting, the meeting that had meant hope and prospect, a new beginning; his big break. He scoffed derisively.

Silent steps moved him next over to the door and he pressed his ear against it, listening. He closed his eyes and focused harder and gave it a moment or two until he was sure there was nothing but silence on the other side. He swallowed, forcing wetness up his dry tight throat and licked at his lips until he felt the forced calm. He placed his palm around the doorknob and held his breath, anything to help be even that much more silent, and turned the handle.

It didn't move. Jensen blinked, his grip tightening and he twisted again. The handle moved just the tiniest bit then stopped sharply, locked. It was more panic than thought as he jammed his shoulder into the door twisting knob with both hands as hard as he could back and forth. The sheer frustration of it being locked, his hoped for freedom so instantly stolen away brought fresh tears to his eyes. He yelled out, a growl more than anything and his palm pounded against the door, over and over until the sting rivalled all the other pains in his body.

“Let me out of here!” he screamed. “You can't keep me here.”

He dropped back a step, body trembling in fury and frustration but mostly in fear, silent tears sliding down, leaving his reddened cheeks glistening, his chest heaving in laboured breath. His final words barely more of a whisper to the immovable door of his cage.

“You can't do this to me.”

His feet stumbled back, his eyes never left the door until his calves hit the bed and he more tumbled than sat on the bed, the pain in his abused body barely registering. Jensen's body shifted back until he was pressed into the headboard and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding tight and rocked slightly, as if his subconscious was trying to comfort him.

*~*~*

“Jesus Christ, the kid's really freaking out.”

Jared's rolled his eyes, tearing them away from the monitor in front of him. Sometimes Jeff could be a rather dense human being and state not only the obvious but the expected like it's some great big surprise, however, when he turned and finally looked at the older man all he saw was amusement. Jared smirked, biting back a laugh. “Imagine how freaked he'd be if he really knew what was in store for him.”

“You gonna to tell him?”

“Fuck no. Where's the fun in that?” His attention turned back to the boy all but swimming in his clothes and he had to admit, even that was sexy as hell. Jensen looked smaller, almost tiny in the larger man's things and so much younger than his eighteen years.

“We're going to need him to sign off the consent forms and contracts. Estelle can only get us so much.”

“Yeah, that reminds me. This kid's ass good enough to get her off the hook?”

Jeff laughed patting Jared's shoulder. “Not fucking likely. Let her think she's getting out from under me. But don't you worry; you'll be there when it's time to collect.”

Jared's lips curled deep, that familiar cruel sizzle driving through him. It wasn't that he had anything particular against the woman, but she'd allowed herself to get in his cross-hairs. Her own greed and vanity had allowed her to become vulnerable and no matter what deal she attempted to broker to save herself that fact would never change. Once Jared got the scent of prey it was damn near impossible for him to back off. Thankfully Jeff rarely demanded that he do.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?” It was really difficult to take his attention away from the monitor. Jeff sighed. “Just get the fucking contracts signed.”

Jared's eyes narrowed until they were thin lines with only the coal black of his pupils showing, and grinned. “On camera or off?”

Jeff perked slightly. “Have something in mind?”

“Yeah. But it's not on script. I want to find out how much he can scream?”

“Fuck.” hissed Jeff softly, the heel of his hand pressing into the sudden swelling in his jeans, eyes flickering to the monitor. “Voice like his... Shit. Bet he sings.”

Jared nodded slowly in agreement, his own groin feeling the enticement churning and swelling yet he found the patience to wait Jeff's decision.

“Do it. We'll figure it into the second or third movie.”

Jared just grinned, his chest tight with anticipation, his body thrumming with excitement. He couldn't remember the last time a new toy brought this out in him. Yeah, the violence always got his engines roaring, whipping someone, the sounds of leather slamming across flesh, the whimpers and screams, and always the begging. But with this kid, with Jensen, he wanted more than just his sounds, more than his supple flesh suffering under his touch, more than just his obedience. He wanted his submission.

*~*~*

Jensen's eyes snapped up at the first sounds of the door opening and Jared's tall frame filled the expanse of the door. His body trembled just at the sight of him, just being so close and he dropped his eyes, staring at the bed to try to school his emotions. Even before he raised his head again he was pretty sure he failed and the glint in Jared's almond shaped eyes and the wolfish grin spreading across his handsome face only confirmed it.

Jared stepped into the room, pressing the door closed behind him and paused at the end of the bed. “Who said you could borrow my clothes?”

Jensen swallowed back and looked him straight in the eye. “What else was I supposed to wear?”

“Nothing works for me.”

The patronizing smirk and the confident tone were too much for Jensen and he barked out. “Let me the fuck out of here!”

Jared’s calmly arched brow at the outburst sending a shudder through Jensen, his own flash of anger evaporating, and remembered who he was yelling at. His gaze turned away, hiding the sudden swell of tears fogging his sight and blinked then away.

“You have to let me go.” his voice quieter. “This is kidnapping.”

“This isn't kidnapping.” Jared's chuckling drew his attention back a second before Jared's knee dipped the end of the bed, the larger man settling to sit and Jensen freaked; his body moving long before his mind could catch up. He scrambled off, not wanting to be that close to Jared, but even more so, not wanting to be on the same bed as the man who had raped him the night before. Jared just watched with mild amusement as Jensen turned and backed himself into a corner.

“The fucking door is locked. You won't let me leave. What the fuck do you call it?”

“Ensuring our investment.”

“The fuck?” he snipped. He was gripping tight to his anger; it was better than the fear that threatened to choke him and with anger at least he would stand up to the bastard. Jared didn't seem the least bit phased. “Sit down, kid. I'm going to explain a few things to you.”

“I'm fine where I am.”

The smirk on the wide lips never faded but the hazel eyes darkened and focused. Jensen could feel the growl building within Jared at being defied. “I said sit.”

Jensen was not ready to give more than what was already taken and he couldn't, even if he wanted to, bring himself closer to Jared. It wasn't that Jensen was a coward, he'd already faced too much violence in his life, but he wasn't a fighter. Given the choice he would run every time, had in fact, spent most of the last few years doing just that, staying in the foster homes or the group homes only to the point where he couldn't take getting bullied or beaten anymore or until he knew for sure more would be taken from him than he was prepared to give, then he'd run away. They would always end up catching him or finding him, not that Jensen did much to hide. He was a smart boy, he knew his limited options, and he knew that if he ran and planned to stay gone there really was only one way he'd be able to survive. So he chose to allow more homes and endured being locked up and being shuffled around and thrown away and whatever else was required to survive until he was old enough to get out and get a job and preserve what little of his innocence he could; innocence that Jared had so cruelly ripped away from him the night before. So, no. He was not ready to be any closer to him.

He pulled himself up and sat on the end of the bureau, fighting to hide the wince in his abused ass as he did. “There. I'm sitting.”

Jared's brows arched at the obedient defiance. A flash of something intense passed through his eyes and Jensen's spine stiffened, warning shivers screamed up his spine and his thigh muscled clenched hard, almost begging him to run before Jared's reaction turned violent. But the look passed as quickly as it came and Jared laughed, shaking his head. “Oh this is gonna be fun.”

“No, this is going to be nothing. You are going to unlock the door and let me go. Estelle knows where I am. If I don't get in touch with her she'll call the cops or something. That what you want?”

Jared laughed. “Estelle brought you here, moron.”

That screaming warning in his spine bellowed louder. “She thought it was for a part in a...”

“She sold you to us.” The words, though quiet held the cold cut of a knife and a glint of amusement teasing the hazel eyes.

Jensen's head was moving slightly, shaking from side to side, though he didn't realize it. “No.”

“Oh yeah.” Jared laughed, moving off the bed. Jensen's mind reeled at the words, at the very thought that the only women who had ever shown him kindness, the motherly lady who had held his hand and listened to his drunken memories of an unloved childhood, would sell him. Sell him? Like a thing? How could that even be possible?

He flinched hard, cringing back at Jared's first touch. The tall, cruel man had stepped close, hands pressing onto Jensen's knees. Instinct drove Jensen's hands to grab at Jared's to push them away and was rewarded with Jared's fingers digging painfully into the flesh around kneecaps. He whimpered before he could stop himself, pressing further back until he was leaning against the mirror of the bureau. His wide eyed gaze sought out Jared as if he could make sense of all this.

“She can't do that.”

“Actually she can. You gave her the power to accept jobs on your behalf. She signed all the papers, it's all legal, you are contracted for four movies with us.”

“Four?” The word choked in his throat. “No fucking way!”

“No?”

“She has no right! I'm a person, not some property she can sell and you can buy. I never agreed to any of this. Movies. I wanted to be an actor not some fucked up degenerate porn star. I'm not some sick fuck like you!”

The curl teased Jared's lips. “Let me explain something to you, kid.”

The hand flew before Jensen could even blink, the rough drag of knuckles cut across his face snapping Jensen's head hard under the backhanded blow, igniting flashes of colour and pain. “No one fucking asked you.”

Jared grabbed a handful of cloth at Jensen's chest, fisting tight and yanking him back until their faces a mere half inch apart. There was no amusement, no levity, barely even any humanity in the eyes that were as cold as steel and as empty as the soul within. “No one is going to ask you.”

Jared jerked hard, yanking Jensen off the bureau, and the boy's feet scrambled quickly. Hands gripped to hold onto Jared, grabbing the hand holding him but it was more for balance than release. The grip jerked and twisted and shoved him hard sending Jensen flying back onto the bed, his body not even having time to bounce before Jared's much larger body crashed down on his, holding him in place. A hand gripped his hair, a million pinpricks of pain shooting through his scalp, the grip twisting violently, locking Jensen tight. Not a single muscle in his body could move under the weight of the man above him and he yelped as Jared slid a thigh between his legs. Jared hissed coldly, “And you'll do as I fucking well tell you.”

“Please don't.” whimpered Jensen weakly, fear stealing away every ounce of courage and fight he'd only moments ago let dictate his actions.

“It's going to happen.” Jared's hips rolled once, a single screaming threat of what was to come. “You will do the movies. You will take whatever I give you and you will obey every fucking command I give or I swear to God I will make you scream like no one has ever screamed before.”

Jensen's body trembled hard, the words like punches into his psyche and he knew better than to speak or fight or even show the slightest defiance. He let his eyes flicker closed. He forced his body to release the horrible tension and go limp, and thereby giving Jared exactly what he wanted. Jared's fists eased their grasp leaving Jensen's scalp itchy as the blood flowed again. Cloth at his throat stayed crumpled even when the grip let go. Jensen almost sobbed in relief as Jared accepted his submission. But then the large hand was caressing his face over the pink mark it had left a moment ago, touches so gentle and kind they were near painful. Jensen finally allowed himself to breathe and a puff of air gusted from his throat.

“You think you can fight me. You're probably thinking you can play along until I turn my back and you'll bolt. And who knows, Jensen, maybe you'll be able to get out of the building. Maybe you'll be able to run and hide. But before you do that, before you take that step I want you to think of something. Will you do that for me?”

Jensen's eyes blinked open and he forced himself to look up. What was so cold seconds ago was filled with hazelnut warmth. Jared didn't bother waiting for an answer and spoke softly as the warmth of the hand continued the almost loving touches. Jared's smile matched his eyes and touches, warm and friendly. “If you run away I will hunt you down like an animal. I have resources you couldn't possibly understand and contacts you couldn't possibly know. There is nowhere in this state I can't find you and you will be found long before you'd ever have a chance to step outside the state line.”

“Oh fucking Christ.” he sobbed, the tears welling up again. “Why?” he cried out, desperation not anger causing his voice to rise. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing. Fuck. You probably never did anything in your life to deserve what I'm going to do to you, but I'm going to do it anyway.” His hips rolled again and Jensen could feel how hard Jared was, how turned on he was to have Jensen so helpless beneath him. “Until the four movies are done you are mine. You are my property, my thing, my whore, my slave, holes for me to use and a canvas to paint in lashes and suffering. Do you understand me?”

Jensen swallowed, fighting to get some form of control over himself. “Would it matter?”

Jared chuckled. “Nope.”

“Then why ask?”

Jared's brow arched and there is no way he could not identify the submission that comes without surrender. “You gonna fight me, Jen?”

With sadness and resignation Jensen's head shook slowly from side to side, the honesty of his answer spoken in his jade eyes before his mouth even opened. “No.”

Jared chuckled softly, locking his gaze so completely on the younger man that for a moment the entire universe disappeared.

“Liar.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With barely any rime to recover from the day before, Jensen is shoved back in front of the camera

As Jared watched the PA's flutter around and perfecting a few last minute preparations he kept Jensen in sight out of the corner of his eyes where he'd left him off to the side of the room. He'd also left a security guard standing nearby, an almost casual reminder to Jensen that there was something between him and the door leading to freedom. For the first few moments Jensen's eyes had flickered around, much like a cornered rabbit's, between the door, the guard and Jared but he must have eventually given up even the dream and turned away, shoulder pressing into the wall and drinking from the bottle of water one of the PAs had given him. Jared had allowed Jensen a robe while the final set up was done, and though it didn't hide much – the hem ending at mid-thigh, the edges barely crossing his chest, leaving the sexiest vee of exposed flesh – it still hide more than Jared wanted. If he had his way Jensen would never be covered in front of him, he would be opened, exposed and available for whatever little whim passed through his mind. Jensen wasn't ready yet, soon perhaps, but not yet. Breaking him down was like walking the boy down a dark flight of steps, each one needed to be secure before moving to the next.

The first scene the night before had been a great beginning. Using and abusing the kid was a blast but the confusion of making him enjoy it, making him come that was heavenly. If he was just a bit older or maybe a little more experienced in sex Jensen would have realize that his body had been played by an expert. God, Jared loved virgins. Especially sweet little virgins whose every thought and emotion fluttered through perfectly wide expressive green eyes. He absently wondered, yet again, if Jensen had any idea what his eyes displayed. He wondered if Jensen knew that when his head was bowed and he peered up through those deliciously sinful, thick, long lashes how incredibly submissive he looked. He wondered if the kid knew that those desperate little hitches of breath he clutched onto when fighting to regain some emotional control only revealed how little he had. There were so many things he wondered about his new toy.

He caught Jeff's nod, the crew was set, lighting finally in place, cameras ready to roll so Jared turned his attention back to the boy and sauntered over, unable to hold back the eager little smirk. Jensen stance shifted, at first only fluctuating weight from one foot to the other but then he took a step back. Those expressive eyes widened slightly as Jared neared, his throat rippling nervously and by the time Jared reached him he was pressing back into the wall. Jared gripped his chin, fingers digging in a little harsher than needed.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

Jensen's eyes flickered around the room, to the cameras, the people who seemed to be waiting, all eyes on the two in the corner, to the large St. Andrew's cross in the corner and other equipment of confinement, and finally to the bed in the middle itself. 

“But...” He breathed out a gasp of air then looked back to Jared. “I'm not into all this. I'm not even gay?”

He said it like it would make a difference. Ironically it did, to Jared at least, it just made it all the more interesting, more challenging. He chuckled darkly. “And yet you came like a two bit whore trolling for his next cock to suck.”

Jensen's face heated up, pink crawling up his throat and blossoming out to his cheeks. “I...” His eyes squeezed closed, as if that could hide him from the shame coursing through him. “I don't know why that happened.”

“I do.” Jared dropped his left palm to the wall right beside Jensen's head and leaned in closer, his right hand cupping the hard curve of his ass, pulling Jensen's hips forward. “Because deep down in all that virginal denial you like it.”

“No, I don't.”

“Oh yeah, you do. Deep down you are just another cock hungry little whore.”

Jensen's jaw clenched tight and his eyes scanned the room again, as if taking it all in for a last time then he pulled his shoulders back and glared up, chin jutting out a bit. “Not all guys are like you.”

Jared barked out a laugh. “You do realize how stupid that was to say to me just seconds before I pull you over there.”

“You're going to do it anyway. Whether I stand up to you or not, whether I bend over for you or not, nothing is going to make a difference. I'm fucked. I get that. I can't stop this. I get that, too. But that doesn't mean I'm going to roll over and be what you want me to be.”

Jared just watched him a moment, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin, every freckle, every twist of his lips as they stretch or pout with each spoken word. The courage in the kid was amazing, totally irrelevant, but still amazing. Maybe that was what made him so challenging, maybe it was the fact that he would take whatever Jared dished but he would not roll over for it. Maybe it was that even though Jared knew he could easily dominate the body, Jensen obviously had some way, or at least believed he had some way, to keep Jared from taking the mind as well. How fucking delicious.

“Very well, pet.” He hardened his eyes, narrowing them and sneered, knowing how that particular look could terrify the boy. “I'll make you a deal.”

Jensen shivered, pressing further back into the wall as the heat of Jared's body pressed in closer. Jared lowered his voice, the dark whisper both a threat and a promise. “If I make you come like the cock hungry whore I know you to be then you will sleep in my bed, with me.”

“Like I'd have a fucking choice anyway.

“Voluntarily.” he added.

Jared could feel Jensen's body shudder, sending spirals of pleasure through his own. Jensen was slightly breathless when he spoke again. “And what if you can't?”

“If I can't...” Jared nuzzled his nose into the side of Jensen's neck, inhaling his scent, the soft smell of soap and a hint of vanilla from the shampoo, his teeth catching on the lobe and nibbling, heated breath teased the wet flesh. “Then I'll let you out of this agreement and let you go.”

Jensen gasped, the hope screaming through his eyes, false hope and Jared knew it well, drove his cock to twitch in his leather pants, pressure growing to just past painful.

“You're lying.”

Jared shook his head. “Nope.”

“Mr. Morgan would never allow it.”

“Jeff will do what I tell him.” A lie but an irrelevant one. No way was Jared not going to win this little wager.

Jensen sucked in his bottom lip and chewed it hard, teeth stretching the skin. “It's not like I have a choice on whether to trust you or not.”

Jared lips twitched into a predatory smirk. “Won't matter anyway because you will come for me, my dirty little slut.”

“For fuck's sake, Jay.” barked Jeff from behind them. How easily the world around them disappeared when he had the boy in his sights. Jared rolled his eyes and sighed. “We're coming!” Then he spoke to Jensen, his fingers flicking at the robe. “Take it off, time to go to work.”

*~*~*

Jensen's hands clung at the edges of the robe by his chest, pulling tighter though he couldn't get it to close any more than it already was. He felt incredibly exposed as if the short hem only made his uncovered thighs more prominent and each movement allowing air to tickle at the naked curved of his ass. But when Jared told him to remove it, to remove the last bit of modesty brought everything back, blunt sharp memories of the night before. Jared's soft words of why he was locked in this hell screaming through his mind louder than anything he'd ever heard.

“What are you going to do to me?” he whispered, though as much as he wanted the warning he did not want the answer. Jared was already moving away, thankfully, he noted, not towards the bed and chuckled, “Whatever I want.”

Several steps later Jared stopped in the centre of the room, surrounded by three men holding large cameras over their shoulders. Each man had another person so close, touching, directional advisers to move whatever cables that might trip the cameramen and to make sure the focus could remain on the lenses and not where they were walking. Jared turned back and arched a brow, the smirk so condescending in its amusement, threatening and challenging all at the same time and Jensen couldn't believe he was actually expected to just go along with this. Estelle had sold him to these people, sold him to Jeff so Jared could abuse and rape him in front of a camera and they all make money on his suffering. How sick were people in the world that there was a market for films like that? Jared had not told him he had to pretend to want or like anything that happened, nor had he laid any expectations of acting requirements so whatever was to happen Jensen knew, from the depths of the lead lining his belly and clenching it into a coiled vice, he knew it was his suffering they sought out. How could they possibly expect him to cast off the robe and just walk willingly towards it?

“Now, pet.” Jared's voice was deceptively calm; no threat, but that in itself was a threat. To easily his mood could swing from that false calm to the cruel abuser. Jensen had learned that lesson so well the night before and had thought of little else since Jared had walked out of the room that morning leaving him with a sore body, threats ringing in his ears and promises that more was to come that evening. He'd been left along most of the day, not counting two small visits from Jared bearing gifts of food. He'd been left with food he couldn't eat, a bed he couldn't rest on and a body that screamed each and every reminder of how powerless he was. He'd tried a long bath to ease the physical suffering but even when that was tempered it did nothing to silent the promises Jared had made that morning. Promises Jared was waiting to keep less than a dozen feet away for the entertainment of those in the room watching, and those who would watch the film. 

Jensen's hands shook, tightening harder on the edges of the robe, his chin began to quiver and he clenched his jaw tight, swallowing away the rising fear before it overwhelmed him. Could he do this? Could he be strong enough to take whatever shame and pain Jared was planning to inflict if only to ensure it would not get any worse? Could he take the lesser of the evil the bastard could bring down on him?

Jared cocked his head, watching quietly a moment then moved back towards him. Jensen's body trembled, scraping hard against the wall. A whimper gasped from his soul as Jared's hand reached out, catching a single tear on his finger. “Crying already?”

Jensen hadn't realized he'd been crying and his head dipped down, trying to squeeze tears away and repeatedly licking his lips nervously, feeling a shame cruising through his flesh at his own weakness. Not a hand had been laid on him, not a single cruel touch since he'd stepped foot in the room yet he was already crying like a frightened little girl. Jared's fingers caught his chin forcing him to look up. Jensen's eyes flickered to the side, then the other side, not wanting to face him and not wanting Jared to revel in his weakness but it wasn't like he had a choice. Finally, reluctantly, he peered up at the man who would inflict whatever torment on him.

“This is going to happen, my pet. I am going to hurt you and degrade you, abuse you and probably finish up raping you, but I can make it easier on you. All you have to do is ask.”

“H...how?”

“I can get you into the right state of mind. I can take you on the journey of your submission instead of just inflicting it on you.”

“Why can't you just do that then? Why do I have to ask?”

“Because it pleases me. It's what I want.”

Jensen watched the face before him for a long second, his mind rolling the words over and over in his mind. He could do as Jared wanted, it was only words required, not a sacrifice in blood, not a limb or his soul, but those words would cost him. Jensen could already see that. Those words that Jared so easily asked for was an insidious and not very subtle way of asking Jensen to help in his own abuse. Oh God, Jared wanted him to help – to not only let it happen but help make it happen. Jensen's mind flashed and screamed and he felt dizzy with fear and the tears leaked out no matter how hard he tried to keep them in. Jared had said he wanted Jensen's obedience long before the first touch but that wasn't true, it wasn't his obedience he wanted, it wasn't even his body Jared wanted. It was to steal inside and take away everything that had always kept him safe and sane while growing up, so much he had fought every day, every minute to hold onto when everything in his life seemed to want to convince him wasn't his to hold onto and now Jared wanted him to give it all up. But maybe that was what Jared was used to. Maybe he was used to kidnapped boys who didn't know how to fight back and maybe he was used to scared boys who gave up because Jensen was also damned sure Jared was used to boys who wanted this. But Jensen didn't, no matter what his dick said the night before, no matter how his body reacted and how hard he came, he did not want this. None of this was who he was. He was not a victim. Life tried to make him a victim but he was not a fucking victim.

Jensen had tools, he had weapons, he had experience in survival and he would use every single one to not give Jared what he wanted – what he expected. Jared wanted obedience; he demanded it and had already made it so perfectly clear how far he would go to get it so Jensen would give him that. He would obey. He would submit and allow his body to be used but not his mind. His mind was the only thing he'd ever had to call his own and he'd be damned to the fiery depths of Perdition long before he'd ever relinquish his mind.

Jensen's tension curled and churned through his body, the warm fingertips on his chin neither tight nor painful yet they burned at his flesh. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together and stood as tall as he could, eyes sharp and determined as they locked hard with Jared's.

“Silly boy.” Jared chuckled softly.

Jared's hands moved quickly and Jensen forced himself limp while the robe was yanked from his shoulders and tossed. With a grip in his hair Jared led him to the center of the room. The cameramen came alive and started moving, focusing. 

A call from Jeff to “Action” and another torturous adventure began.


	7. Movie 2 Angel's Breaking, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enduring isn't enough anymore, Jared expects compliance, obedience, surrender.

Jensen stood in the centre of the room, wanting more than anything to cover up is nakedness, but he knew better. Shaming him and forcing him to stand and expose himself as the cameras moved around them was surely part of Jared's pleasure. Jared had the luxury of another one of his leather outfits, the black pants fitting so tight and low on his lips, a charcoal grey shirt tucked into his waist, sleeves of the shirt again rolled up, displaying those thick arms which had already proven that, though they were created in a gym, they don't lack any of the required muscle to take whatever he wished, wrists decorated with a scattering of leather bracelets that seemed more personal choice than BDSM apparel, if Jensen were to guess. Over the shirt was a leather vest that fit as snuggly as a second skin even though it was open at the wide chest, the chest displayed by the few open buttons, revealing the thick silver chain low on his throat that had caught Jensen's attention that first time they'd met. The thick black belt with glistening silver buckle and the heavy combat boots polished to a shine completed the perfect display of dominance. He looked as dangerous as Jensen knew him to be, doing nothing to hide the violence barely contained beneath the surface of leather, a man as cold as the silver decorating his throat. 

Despite the gaggle of witnesses a pregnant hush fell across the room as Jared slowly circled him, studying him, watching every twitch or flinch, reminding Jensen of prey being stalked by a panther. When Jared disappeared behind him Jensen caught his breath deep in his lungs, feeling the creeping chill crawling up his spine. He stood tall, keeping his shoulders back and tight, trying to show strength when all he felt was weakness, to show pride when he was coursing with shame. It all faded instantly as Jared stepped in close, the heat of his body taunting Jensen's naked flesh and whispered into his ear.

“We're going to work more on obedience today, pet.”

The words were as much for the camera as they were for him but there was something about the intimacy of the tone, the closeness of his body that it almost made Jensen forgot about the cameras and the audience. He shifted slightly, raising his chin the tiniest little bit, an action so faint that no one in the room would understand and no one who would watch these disgusting excuses for movies would probably even notice. He heard the soft low rumble of Jared's laughter and knew that Jared noticed and that Jared understood.

“Do you know what you are?”

“Someone held against his will.”

Jared wove his fingers into his hair and jerked back, stretching Jensen's throat taunt. He whispered darkly. “You're a slave.”

Jensen opened his mouth to refute it, then thought better, and snapped his mouth closed. Jared chuckled at his silence and continued, drawing a finger down his jaw line. “You're a piece of meat for anyone to use. Holes to be filled.”

Jensen would not respond, would not argue. Jared could and would say whatever he wished, but it didn't make it true.

The warm body pulled back away leaving him standing alone and he shivered, not only in the cool chill of the room but the uncertainty. He felt even more unbalanced without Jared's touch. But then Jared was back, stepping before Jensen with a set of beautifully crafted black and red woven leather cuffs.

“Hold out your hands.”

Jensen's eyes never wavered but his heart raced in his chest.

Jared waited a heartbeat, no more, and then his chin nodded ever so slightly. Fire scorched across Jensen's shoulders and he cried out, the unexpected blow of a flogger driving his body forward a step and he near fell into Jared. He sucked in breath hard through clenched teeth, the pain rippling its storm through twitching flesh and he righted himself, stealing a quick glance back to see one of the men who had also been behind the scenes the night before, only this time, he left a flogger in his hand. He raised his eyes to Jared again, lids narrowing, jaw clenched tight.

“Hold out your hands.” Jared repeated in the same, calm tone.

Jensen's chest heaved deep, knowing what would come should he defy, but he also knew what to expect should he obey. His decision not made in time and another nod from Jared before the leather laid its lines of stinging flame diagonally across his back, his shoulder twisted hard, the tips biting into his skin and he sucked in hard, gulping back his yelp. His head bowed, chin almost to his chest and gasped a ragged breath. It hurt, hell, it stung, but Jensen had known much worse in his life. He raised his head slowly, pulling back and squaring his shoulders. He had no idea what he was doing, but he had to do it. It wasn't out of some delusion that Jared would see he wasn't giving in and would stop, and he knew exactly how Jared felt about disobedience, but he couldn't stop himself and knowing that, knowing how he was making it worse terrified Jensen almost as much as the man before him. He couldn't stop what was happening to him and now he couldn't stop himself from making it worse. He blinked the wetness in his eyes, unshed tears speaking volumes to the abuser, screaming out his internal battle and he didn't even know what it was saying.

Jared watched him carefully with those cold, intense eyes that told Jensen he was the only thing in the world at that moment, that he was the centre of everything, seen and obvious. Jared's lips slowly spread, his eyes glimmering as the smirk curled his lips. That smirk always preceded something horrible, those eyes, hazel and dazzling, so alert and full of life promised nightmares and misery, and even as the beautiful face came to light only darkness fell over Jensen's soul. Jensen trembled.

Jared's single word came out so softly, carrying the weight of its promise. “Hands.”

Jensen's hands trembled at his side but they moved, they finally moved. It wasn't the whip behind him that released whatever hold there had been, it was the man in front of him, it was in eyes that saw him so completely and lips that promised so much more in its smile. He blinked slowly, momentarily unseeing and when he looked again he had escaped the gaze holding his and he placed all his attention on the thick silver chain laying delicately at the soft pulse point of Jared's neck. He watched it shift as the man swallowed easily, and tried to ignore the feel of the cuffs being attached to his wrists, the added weight, which was nothing but so much at the same time, the warmth as it encircled his flesh, the solidness yet soft smoothness of leather. He didn't move his hands when they were locked into place but held them before him, still in offering.

“Good boy.”

Jensen's eyes snapped closed. Words he both hated and craved and when he looked back up he could see in those ever aware eyes that Jared knew the effect they had on him.

“Put your hands in a prayer position against your chest.”

There was no hesitation anymore and his arms moved as he was told, clenching his hands together at his chest. Jared used a D-ring clip to attach the cuffs together. Jensen's pulse quickened, his chest rising faster with each breath, eyes widening, questioning. Jared touched his face, ignoring how Jensen startled, and caressed his cheek.

“Very good. And as you know good boys get rewarded.”

Christ! He wanted to bellow out that the only reward he could want is to be let go but even before he could choose a single word of protest Jared's other hand dropped between his legs and found his cock. Jensen's breath burst out at him when even he couldn't deny his body's reactions. His head moved before knew, shaking from side to side, sniffling back an explosion of shame, and mumbled under his breath. “Fuck.”

Jared's laughter gleamed through his eyes, watching Jensen's struggle to keep his arms at his chest and not stop the unwanted touches. He shifted to the side, leaving Jensen in full view of the cameras and everyone in the room, fisting the cock and bringing it to life. “Tell us, pet. What exactly is it that makes you so hard? The domination? Do you like obeying me?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly. “Of course not.”

“Ah. Then the flogger. You love the pain.”

“No!” Jensen's voice came out a little stronger. Jared pondered a moment, his fist moving in languid strokes, the thumb playing over the head. “Then perhaps what turns you on so much is the humiliation of having the cameras watch you get off on all this.”

Jensen's eyes widened and snapped to the camera before him, the flaming heat of his shame flushing through him then looked away so quickly his head spun. “No. Fuck no!”

Jared's thumb coiled over the head, the nail teasing the slit open a bit and chuckled darkly. “I see. Then perhaps it's me.”

Jensen froze, so very still even his heart paused for a moment, his blood shuddered in a quiet wake and he realized how he had just been played. Led by his nose so proficiently to a question he couldn't possibly answer. There was no way to answer without a consequence. To deny could infuriate Jared, to be publicly rejected, he had no way of knowing how Jared would react, but to admit to the lie, to say it was true then he would be accepting, allowing, even encouraging whatever else Jared would inflict sexually. And Jared knew it to be a lie so would he then be punished for lying? There was no way to answer.

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

The palm squeezed just under the mushroomed head of his cock squeezing out a dollop of pre-come, and Jensen's hips twitched, catching a moan just before it slipped out. Jared nibbled softly at up his jaw line to his throat. “I want you to tell me the truth.”

Jensen's head tilted away, exposing his throat. “I want to go home.”

Jared sighed. The palm gripped the cock hard suddenly and stilled. Jensen's eyes snapped open in the stifled grunt only to find the amused eyes lost in the darkened cold hazel. “This is your home now. You are a slave, nothing but a slave. The sooner you accept that the easier this'll be.”

He stepped away from his captive leaving him all alone in the centre of the room, hands still locked in the position bound and clenched, cock hard and bobbing slightly at his belly. “There's someone I want you to meet, pet.”

It was the sound that caught his attention first, the sudden swishing of displaced air. Jensen's head spun towards the door where a man entered. He wasn't a tall man, nowhere as tall as Jared, with shoulder length brown hair and dressed in dark jeans and black cowboy boots, topped with a skin tight black t-shirt that displayed the thick muscles of each arm. In each twirling and twitching hand was a four foot single tailed whip, long hard leather, smaller versions of the bullwhip used to threaten Jensen the day before. The man moved forward casually, almost sensually, a dance of swaying flesh and twirling leather. As he neared his incredibly deep blue eyes zeroed in and focused directly on Jensen. 

“This is Chris.” said Jared. 

A low frightened whine seeped out the back of Jensen’s throat. His feet shuffled small steps backwards, inch by inch without even realizing he was moving. His body trembled so hard, like a man verging on hypothermia.

Chris bent arms swirled counter to each other, the two tails coiling and spinning in perfect harmony around his body, sides, to front, then sides to back, circling and shifting in the air around him, continuous, elegant, graceful movements that gave form and life to the whips.

Jensen's attention spun back to Jared as Chris moved behind him, disappearing. The whistles of leather cutting through air drove jolts of terror into the dark pit of his stomach. “Why? I'm being good.”

“Yes you are.”

“I'm not fighting you.”

The large palms cupped his cheeks to bring wide desperate eyes to meet his own. “But I want more.”

How much more could he want? He'd taken everything the night before. He'd been beaten into submission and raped and it was all recorded for eternity. There was nothing else he could take that he hadn't taken. His shame so complete he didn't know how he would ever be able to look himself in the eye again and now Jared said he wanted more. Cut out his heart? Bleed him? What else was there to take?

Jared read the question in his eyes. “I want you to submit to me.”

Jensen nodded quickly, willing to agree to anything as he heard the whip tips snapping into the floor with each twirl.

“I want you on your knees offering yourself to me. I want you to beg to be mine, my slave, to belong to me and accept my will. I want you to offer yourself to my wishes.”

Jensen sobbed. His wishes? But Jared’s wishes were pain. And shame. It wouldn't be the same as having things just done to him when he had no control. If Jared was doing it to him, if he couldn't stop it then it was not his fault. He was not to blame; Jared was, because it would be Jared beating him or Jared forcing him. But if he did what Jared wanted then it would be like he was letting it happen. It would be no different from asking for it. How could Jared expect him to offer to be a slave? A fucking sex slave! He'd finally got his freedom, a freedom he'd sacrificed for and fought for and waited so fucking long for. How could he give it up?

“Which is harder? Which is worse, Jensen? Which will you give me? Your pain or your submission?”

“No, you can't do this. Please.”

“Last chance, pet.”

“Jared. Sir... Please. God, please don't do this! I've been good, sir. I want to be good.”

“Not good enough.” He nodded to Chris and suddenly the air behind Jensen changed. It moved and shimmered, the whistles zipped around his head and then before he could even wince it happened. Two lines, so perfect in white blinding fire cut across his back, one over the other in a perfect X. His body jolted in shock, the pain followed a spit second later and he screamed out, back arching hard, the force and fear thrusting him a step forward into Jared. “Holy fuck!”

Jared moved just as quickly, a step back and he grabbed the clip holding the cuffs together, pushing forward, keeping Jensen in place, denying the warmth and comfort the boy sought out. Two bodies leaned into each other, Jared's arm bridging them and Jared never took his eyes off the boy as the whips cut through the air again, or perhaps still, Jensen doubted they ever stopped, and lay in again. His head snapped back hard as a scream squeezed out of his dry clenched throat. Before he could really take a single lungful of air the harsh, cruel leather bit into his left butt cheek, a snap, like a bullet might feel. He couldn't stop it and howled out again, jerking hard to the side to escape, but Jared just hung on tighter.

“Please! Jared, please! God! Please make it stop!”

“Make a choice, Jensen.”

The bite of fire exploded in his right ass cheek only a few second before another welt burst across his back. This was torture, this was true unadulterated torture. Unlike the night before where the flogger's pain, though intense, melted into the pleasure, blended sensations, but this was nothing but pain for the sake of pain – pain for the sake of compliance and Jensen knew he could not take it. His body crumbled hard to the floor, knees crashing painful, jarring the bone right through to the hip and he cried out, hands twisting, trying to break free of Jared's strong grip to hold onto him.

“Please.” he begged, gasping and choking on his own tears and the agony ruling his body and mind. He never realized when Jared's grip did release, only knew that suddenly he could reach out. His hands scrambling to grab Jared's shirt but Jared was too quick, too strong and he pulled back easily and without support Jensen dropped further. Jensen reached up with his bound hands, grabbed at whatever he could and wrapped his hands around a leather covered leg, holding on for dear life just as the single tail cut across his back again, the aching force driving him harder into Jared and he screamed out. “Please, sir!”

Jared raised his hand and Chris stopped completely, arms resting at his side, slightly breathless himself.

Jensen's tears rolled down his face, his beaten body crumbling deeper into Jared thighs, holding his bound hands tightly, fingers digging into the strong thigh muscle, as if to let go would condemn him to more. His throat raw and rough, broken from the screams and tears, words seeped out barely whispered, “Please.”

He knew what Jared waited for but he couldn't speak, he could barely breathe so he nodded then nodded again, rubbing his tears into Jared, hoping, wishing, praying that could be enough to stop the attack but at the same time knowing Jared would never settle for that. Jared allowed him to lean into him for a moment or two before he pried the hands away and without something to hold onto they dropped to the floor. Jensen's body sunk lower until his tears stained cheek pressed into soft leather covering warm shin. Jared waited, allowing Jensen to gather some control of the pain shivering through his body and the desperate ragged breaths. The boy licked at his quivering lips, blinking away tears that wouldn't stop flowing. Finally, his raspy voice gasps out. “No more.”

Jared stood to his full height. “What is your choice, Jensen?”

He sniffed back hard, fighting to control his tears, his trembling, and the pain in his body he could not breathe through. “Slave.”

“You choose to be a slave?”

Against everything he believed, everything he ached for, every right choice he knew he needed to make, he made his decision. He made the only decision he could. He nodded his cheek against Jared's shin, hating himself for agreeing, hating himself more for finding comfort in the man's closeness, his warmth, and wishing he could deny how much he wanted more of both at that moment.

“Say it.”

Jensen's eyes squeezed so tight no more tears could escape and they welled out around his thick eyelashes, clotting them in heavy little bunches. He knew what he had to do, he knew what he had to say, and he sucked in a deep breath, and then released it slowly. He needed another before he could find his voice again.

“I want to be your slave, sir.” A whimper of acceptance and defeat slipped out, remembering Jared's earlier words. “Please let me be your slave. Your will. Your wishes.”

Jared sunk down to a crouch and pulled his new slave up, grabbing Jensen's face between his hands, ignoring the way he flinched back, the terrified whimper and the fear in the green eyes unable to look up. But Jared tilted his head, forcing those eyes up, shimmering in tears, red and puffy, face blotchy and streaked and he smiled warmly placing soft loving kissing over the boy’s cheeks and eyes. “Will you be my slave, Jensen?”

Jensen nodded, whimpering, swallowing around a huge lump in his throat but when Jared's eyes narrowed he obeyed what didn't need to be commanded. “Yes sir.”

“Do you want to be good for me?”

The response came out more a sob than a word. “Yes.”

“Will you obey me and give everything I ask for?”

A new rush of tears billowed over and streamed down at the silent threat, knowing full well that his own answer would seal his fate. His answer slipped out barely more than a whisper, and, without a doubt not heard by the cameras, but the lips were clear. “Yes.”

“Good boy.”

He pulled Jensen into his embrace and held him close and the moment Jensen was locked in Jared's arms he started crying again, only not in fear but relief. His bound hands gripped at Jared, holding and clawing, needing him more desperately than he'd ever needed anyone before. Jared's two proffered words a gift more generous than anything Jensen had ever known and for the tiniest second he allowed himself to soak in the comfort and safety his mind and body ached for. He leaned into each kiss, letting each wash away the sobs and steal away the trembling.

“That pleases me so much, my angel.”

Jensen’s gasps of relief filled the air and he'd forgotten everything else around them. For that moment they were in a bubble, deaf and blind to anything else, his flesh's burns seething but even the most horrible of its fires were quenched within that bubble. And he knew that so long as he could make Jared happy and keep him pleased then he could stay in that quiet, calm, safe place. Jared held him and touched him, caressed him and soothed him until the tears were dried and his breathing was regular. Then Jared slowly tipped Jensen's head up, and let the warmth in his hazel eyes speak to the submission in the green.

“I know this will be hard but I need to test you, my slave.” The panic in Jensen's eyes flared. Jared just shook his head, dismissing it softly. However Jensen needed to say the words. “I'm scared.”

“I know. But I need you to do this for me.” His lips curl into a smile, though, not the smirk that drove his panic into overdrive. “And if you are good and pass my test I'll take care of this for you.”

Jared's hand slipped down between Jensen's thighs. Jensen gasped sharply, hips flinching and his gaze shot down. It wasn't possible. There was no way. He couldn't be hard. There was no way he could be hard, so incredibly fucking hard when he had been so cruelly beaten. There had to be something wrong with him. All those years with so many people throwing him away and so many people telling him how he was pathetic and useless, something no one wanted – a reject – piece of garbage. Did they know something he didn't know? Maybe Estelle had seen it and maybe Jared could see it. Maybe everyone saw it. Maybe there was something so fundamentally wrong with him that everyone saw and he could only see now because Jared was showing it to him. He let out a raspy groan when Jared's warm talented palm stroked from base to head, unable to stop his hips from rocking into it. Oh God. He remembered the deal he'd made with Jared. If he gave into that need, that hunger, that grew with every touch then he would have to go willingly. Jared wanted him pliant and willing. He mumbled out a horrified curse at his own body.

“Will you give this to me, Jensen?”

Jensen's eyes snapped open and he looked up at Jared crouching before him, so strong, so big, and so unafraid of anything. A man who could and would do whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted and there was no way Jensen could stand up to him. If he refused the beating would start again, and he'd just end up giving in eventually. He knew that. Jared knew that. He had no choice. Jared had stolen everything from him and offered nothing but worse. Unless he submitted. If he couldn't stand up to him and fight then his only other option was to kneel and submit. His only option. Maybe if he pleased him, maybe if he gave Jared what he really wanted, the first thing he'd ever asked for, ever declared that he expected, obedience, maybe it wouldn't be so fucking horrific, maybe it wouldn't be so painful. But if he did it then he would have to do it right, properly. Surely, Jared would get even angrier if he agreed then failed or fought. The only real way for him to save himself any misery was to give Jared everything he wanted. Jensen's head dipped down, his whole existence hung on the razor's edge as he stumbled blindly into a world he knew nothing about. But the consequences were...

“Yes.”

“Yes what, slave?” There was definitely pleasure in the tone. A shiver of relief, even excitement shot through Jensen and he raised his eyes back up to Jared, offering everything through them.

“Yes sir. I want to give this to you. I want...” he fumbled, trying to find words he didn't know, didn't understand. He swallowed hard, then licked his lips, trying to wet with a dry tongue. “Please.”

He left a single word and his own eyes to speak words he could not say.

Jared growled deeply, a soft roar of pleasure that rumbled through his body and into Jensen's as he took his mouth, kissing him so deeply, more passionately than the boy had ever thought possible and he took it, the same as he took everything else the older man had inflicted.

Jared stood up, his eyes locking on the prostrate body before him. “Kneel up. Spread your thighs. Wider. Display yourself to me.”

As Jensen obeyed he was suddenly reminded of the others in the room, of Chris behind with the whips and Jeff in front directing, of the camera people and the lighting people and his heart flipped into his belly when he thought of what everyone had just witnessed. The shame crept through him like a cold shiver, up his spine and across his flesh, tainting and marking him as deeply as the whips had. He placed his bound hands gingerly on his thighs, hiding the worst of his disgrace.

“Hands at your chest like before.”

He cringed. Jared wouldn't even give him that. No, Jared would give him nothing; leave him with nothing – just take everything. What would become of him when nothing was left and it had all been stolen away? He'd be nothing, like everyone had always said. He'd be, or maybe he already was, and Jared was just showing him. He pressed his thumbs against sternum, pressing in hard and his fingers intertwined tightly as a reminder to hold onto something. Because if he didn't there wouldn't be anything left when Jared was finally done with him.

Jared snapped his fingers and Jensen flinched, dragging his attention back to Jared. Jared offered the barest of nods at his reaction then spoke clearly in that same calm dominance that had so intimidated him the day before.

“You will kiss me feet four times. Twice on each foot.” Jensen listened silently, knowing that couldn't be all required for the test. It was too easy. The pause made him feel as if he should speak or acknowledge or something so he nodded, not daring to speak as his clenched throat locked so much inside him.

“Each time your lips touch Chris will lay in with the whip. Four times you will prove yourself to me. Take this and I'll believe you truly want to be mine.”

Jensen's eyes squeezed closed, breath sucking in sharply. “Oh fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Will you give this to me?”

Jensen forced himself to breathe, forced himself to swallow, forced himself to do what he had to do and looked up. “Yes, sir.”

The hint of a smile curved those wide lips. “Then get to it.”

Get to it? Get to it! Fuck. He hadn't thought about that. If he didn't move then neither would Chris and his whips. If he stayed very still there would be no pain, no more humiliation, no more breaking him down until he was nothing, just limbo. If he did move he would be bending over, offering his ass up on a silver fucking platter to the sadist and his two cruel whips and perfect aim. If he moved than he would be asking for it. But, if he didn't move then Jared would become angry. He wanted so desperately to scream and jump up and run and run and run. Instead he sniffed back his tears, swallowed back his fear and bent over, pressing his lips to the top of Jared's right boot.

Lips barely touched the leather and the whip cut through the air, a whistle of warning which was no warning at all was all he got. The fire screamed through his back first, cutting from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip, the tip coiling over and biting its bruise into his collarbone and he arched hard, the scream locking in his throat and he could do nothing but buck up into it until he could finally breathe. Then he screamed. Pain, so hot and deep, like a knife had sliced through him, and he leaned low, pressing his cheek against Jared's shin, struggling through the worst of it. “Oh God! Oh fuck, that hurts.”

Jared's fingers carded through his hair and Jensen found his eyes closing and soaking in the touches. As soon as he was ready he bent down again, pressing his kiss this time to Jared's left boot.

The lash crossed the other, which was crossing others and he screamed out, his throat burning in its overuse, too many lines battling for dominance on his body only to be beaten out by the tiny points of crossed lashes. His body dropped to Jared again, finding the solace in his warmth and presence and his gentle touch. God, that should not feel as good as it did. But it did and he needed it. Oh God, did he need it. He knew he had to continue and he settled back, hands dropping to the floor between his own knees, holding his weight and he started to lower, he wanted to get this done with, get it over, but he knew what would happen, what was going to happen. He tilted his teary eyes up and sobbed. “It hurts so much. Please, no more.”

He trembled, waiting, realizing his mistake too late. Jared would think he was defying, but he wasn't. He wanted to be good, but it was too hard, too much. He wasn't strong enough. Instead of getting angry Jared crouched down to him and pulled Jensen's face into the crook of his neck and cooed the softest noises to him.

“Hush, pet. It's okay.” Jensen melted into that comfort again, into his arms and his warmth where there was no pain and he wasn't afraid and it could only be with Jared because he was the only one who could make it stop. He could make it stop or make it worse and Jensen just wanted to not to piss him off. The soft cooing turned into gentle words.

“I know this is hard, but I want this from you.”

Not a reprieve, no mercy and Jensen's tears just flowed. Jared held all the power and could do anything he wanted and everyone was watching and Jensen was too weak, a nothing, garbage, he couldn't make it stop.

“Take one more for me. Will you do that for me?”

For him, for Jared, to please Jared, one more so Jared could be pleased and Jensen really wanted to please him because then maybe he would see how hard he's trying. Jensen nodded into the warmth of his neck. For Jared.

He felt the movement of Jared's head, a nod, and the lash laid in directly across his ass, covering both cheeks and curling around to bite so viciously into his left hip. Jensen's shrieks were muffled by in Jared's neck. Hands fisting at Jared's shirt yanked harder, gripping fiercely, and hanging on with everything he had as his body bucked and thrashed in Jared's arms. He held nothing back as he screamed and sobbed, releasing every bit of suffering, most that came from a place far deeper inside him than any whip could inflict.

Jared's arms gripped a fierce embrace that held him so close that it sent Jensen's trembling through the other man. He kissed him through the worst of it, cooing. “That's my boy. That's a good boy for me.”

And when Jensen pulled back just a bit to be able to gulp in a large breath of air Jared spoke. “Now prove yourself to me, take the last one.”

“Oh God, Jared. Please. I can't...”

Jared's hand found his cock again and he cried out, too far gone in pain to even contemplate the shame of why his body responded to all that was being inflicted. He tried to be still, he really did but in minutes, as cameramen moved careful around him and lighting guys shifted things to make everything just bright enough to be so blatantly obvious to whatever sick fucks would watch the video, his hips began moving and the cock twitched to eager touches, his breath quickened, though not from fear, and he could do nothing but helplessly accept his own body's needs. Tears flowed from his eyes as pearl beads wept from his cock and he moaned deeply, fingers digging into Jared's chest. Need crawled through his body and settled into his belly. He felt it churning and heating, sending bolts of desperation through his nerves. His teeth dug into his bottom lip and he pressed his face harder into Jared's shoulder. But that didn't please, his face was hidden and Jared wasn't happy. Releasing him from the warm safe embrace Jared grabbed a handful of hair with his left hand, right working the cock faster and faster. Jensen's head just dropped back, too weak and exhausted to hold it up on his own and it bounced in Jared's movements. With a nod from Jared that Jensen never saw the whip laid in once more, one last time and crossed his ass again, only the cruel tail choosing the right hip to leave him marked and bruised in its fire. The welt's burning, fiery, flame screaming through him. Sensations mingled and twisted in his mind and body; a cornucopia of brutal pain and minor pleasure, intense need and barbaric desperation. His cock erupted it's deceit in long strands of salty white come across Jared's shirt and he cried just as pathetically in release as he did in agony until every drop of his essence, his will and strength leaked out of him and he collapsed forward.

Long arms coiled around him before he crumbled to the floor, pulling him into Jared's hard welcoming chest, trembling body braced within the little cavern of powerful thighs, enveloping him in that sanctuary, that bubble of Jared, Jared's essence and safety. So absorbed in his relief for having endured and survived the latest trial that he never saw Jared glanced back at Jeff, at the camera, hazel eyes glowing, cheeks flushed, his entire being grinning in victory.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff reminds Jared who really rules.

Jared watched as Jensen was being carried out, his body crumpled up and his feet staggering to keep up. He could hear his angel's little pants of pain and tiny whimpers of misery from being moved. The two idiots carrying him seem almost afraid to touch the poor boy, his body marked and lined, welted and bruised, coated in sweat and his own come. Debauched. So perfectly debauched. He looked so very small and fragile, broken in fact. Jared's broken little angel, his to do with as he wished. Jared waited until they passed the door and were out of sight and was about to follow when Jeff called from behind him somewhere.

“Jared, a sec?”

Jared tore his eyes away from the door; all he wanted was to get back to his room where Jensen was being taken. Time to reap the rewards of breaking him so completely. But it would have to wait. He released a reluctant sigh and turned back to Jeff, waiting a moment as the director finished up going through some papers on a clipboard – next day's shooting schedule Jared knew them to be. His eyes moved around the room to the quiet disorganization. Actually, he knew it to be quite organized but shutting down a set always had people scampering around, a reminder that, despite everything, porn was a business, a job. He never did like being on set after a shoot, kind of took away the magic for him.

Jeff's eyes flicked briefly from the clipboard. “Stop smirking,” he said, letting the familiar scowl cross his face. “You ain't all that.”

Jared inhaled a deep sigh of satisfaction and turned to face the director. “Right. Cause that wasn't one hot fucking scene. Not at all one of the best submit-under-duress scenes we've ever shot.”

“Yeah, it was hot, but that's not the point. Is it?”

Jared's grin faltered for a bare second, the criticism stealing into his cloud of euphoria. “What the fuck? You can't tell me that wasn't perfect.”

Jeff's body shifted until he was facing Jared completely. The energy in the room changed, charged, as if waiting for lightening to strike and Jared knew it wasn't his imagination because within seconds every other person in the room had fled. Jared could draw out the same results from people through physical intimidation and cold glares but Jeff could freeze a room with little more than a thought. The older man might not be as tall but he was a strong man with an air of authority and an expectation of command, and his dark eyes locked on Jared in ways few had the audacity to inflict on the younger man. “You think I have these scripts written up because I like wasting money?”

“Oh please,” he drawled. “Some of that shit is lame.”

“I don't care. It's what the pervs want. Your job is to make sure the pervs get what they want. Not to play around with your new toy.”

“You telling me the teasers you sent out over the net aren't getting a favourable response?” Jared knew the answer already. Within an hour of posting the pervs were salivating over the teasers and why wouldn't they? Everything was coming through the camera, every emotion, every feeling, every whimper and cry. Every stroke of leather and controlled command, it all came through and the camera was eating it up. If Jeff and Jared hadn't got their hands on Jensen when they did Jensen definitely would have made it big one day in Hollywood. No doubts in Jared's mind. He would have been a star. Well, same difference. They were going to make him a star. “Because I know that's bullshit. I talked to Becky and she told me that the girls in sales can't even keep up with pre-orders and the fucking things haven't even been online for a full day. Hell, you haven't even set a release date yet.”

“Those are teasers – 3, one minute teasers – they're not the final cut so that doesn't mean shit. These guys are ordering on faith that we'll give them what they want. Like we always do. And they want the same things they always want. Do you even remember what your fucking job is?”

Jared's eyes narrowed, soft words hissed harsh through clenched teeth. “I'm doing my fucking job and I'm doing a kick ass job at it.”

Jeff's hand shot out fast, but not too fast for Jared. Instinct born from a lifetime of defending himself, Jared's every muscle twitching to move, every nerve sizzling to speak out, every thump of his quickened heartbeat demanding action, to strike out, demanding he raise an arm to block the blow at the very least, but all thoughts of self-defence were overruled by his mind that knew the consequences of such stupidity. Using every ounce of willpower Jared forced his arm to remain still and prepared himself for the blow. But Jeff didn't strike him; instead he grabbed at the thick silver choker at Jared's neck and yanked once, hard. “Tone, boy.”

Jared's body tightened, shoulders rippling, tension slithered through his muscles, down his back then further down his long toned legs and out his strong powerful arms, forcing his fists to coil at his sides. His eyes narrowed until only the blacks of his pupils dared peek through, nostrils flared, the heat of his body jumped with the quickening of his heartbeat. Every fibre of his being ready to fight, wanting to hit, punch, take down, take out, hurt, damage, mutilate...something. Instead he exhaled slowly, forcing the tightened muscles to visibly relax. Then with a near silent growl he lowered his eyes for no more than two heartbeats. It was enough for Jeff to accept and he released the choker. Jared took a half step back and stood to his full height, taller, almost hovering. He was younger, bigger, stronger, faster, but none of that mattered, didn't make a damned bit of difference when facing Jeff Morgan. He looked away first.

“Fine.” he said finally, voice cold and sharp, needing another minute to regain the quiet calm he was known for. “I'll stay on script when we come back in three days.”

“No. I want the final scene for this movie tomorrow. Give him time to rest during the day then I want him back here tomorrow evening. Got it?”

“No way. He needs time to recover.”

“I don't want him recovered.” Jeff said in the sneering calm he used when he felt bothered by stating the obvious. “I want him fucked up. I want to see him lose it. He's scared and damaged enough right now and won't fight. He'll be rode hard and put away wet and the camera will fucking love it. So will our customers.”

“You don't give him recovery time and you'll break him. What the fuck, Jeff? You always give them a couple of days off when they're pushed hard?”

“And you are fucking coddling him!” he growled, raising his voice for the first time, eyes drilling into Jared. Then calmer he said, “It ends today.”

“That is bullshit and you know it. I put him down for you. It took fucking talent to get him into that state of mind in only two sessions.”

“I don't give a rat's ass about his state of mind or whatever talents you think brought him there.”

“Jeff, give him two days, at least. Customer's don't like dead eyed kids who don't fight.”

Jeff's eyes narrowed. “You defending that twink now?”

“What?” Jared's eyes flared at the accusation, more so because, he realized, there was truth to it. He drove a hand through his hair, shoving it off his face and searched for words that would explain his actions. Jeff beat him to the punch. “You getting attached to him, Jay?”

Jared scoffed. “Fuck no.”

Jeff's eyes locked Jared in place, scrutinizing every inch of his face, his body's reactions. A stone glare, dark and colder than Jared could ever hope to imitate, threatening and draining, a look that sucked in rather than reached out until Jared found himself locked so tight and still he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. It was the same stare Jeff had fixed on him, so many years ago, seconds before Jared was sure his life would end. That look that promised pain and suffering before the fires of Hell themselves would engulf him. Even if he could, Jared knew better than to move or look away, he knew better than to speak or defend himself. Jeff would see what he saw and there was nothing Jared could do to alter any perceptions his boss would have. After a long moment Jeff stepped in closer, his body heat pressing into Jared. “Your new little toy getting under your skin?”

“You know me better than that. I'm just thinking long term. We still need him for two other movies.”

Jeff nodded slowly. “Good, Jay. That's good. Cause you know he's just meat, just a new toy for you to play with and me to make money from until he's not even good enough for that anymore.”

Holding Jeff's gaze Jared let his lips curl into a slow, cruel smirk and rolled his body in the same sultry way he had all those years ago – a movement that had saved his life. His body responded, cock twitching as it rubbed against Jeff, but then, it always responded to Jeff. “Not gonna take away my toy, are you, boss? I've been having so much fun. Have you seen those tears? Or the way his body just writhes when whipped. God. So perfect. How long do you think it would be before I can get him begging and pleading to be a come covered cock-whore for the camera and really mean it?”

Jeff's dark grin matched his eyes, hands sliding down Jared's sides and wrapping around to cup his ass, pulling him in to grind groins together. “Think you can do it? Think you can take him that far without breaking him completely? Because, seriously, between you and me, I really don't want him broken just yet. Or did you already break him?”

Had Jensen broken or bent? Was there more inside to call on or had Jared reached Jensen's limits? Jared's eyes glanced over to the centre of the room where no chains had held Jensen, yet he had been bound so tightly, eyes falling to the half dozen or so small red spots on the floor. Blood. Jensen's blood. His tongue absently licked over his lips, the smile returning, almost feeling it all happening again.

“I can do it. And he can take more.”

“You sure about that?”

Jared licked his lips again, staring hard at the floor, the tiny red drops, remembering. No, he wasn't sure, it was a feeling. There was still something inside that kid he hadn't reached yet. He didn't act like the sewer rats they'd pulled in off the streets, not strong and aware, yet not innocent and starry eyed like the suburban kids they found on the internet. Jensen was neither and yet he was both. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I need you to be fucking sure here. Like you said, the pervs pay more when there's a little fight, when they can watch him being taken down. They get bored easy when the submission isn't a fight. And there's no way we can charge what we charge if it looks like you're going easy on the kid.”

“You think what I'm doing to him comes off as easy?”

Jeff ignored him and just continued. “If you can't get him there then I'll get Misha in to take over.”

“Fuck you, Jeff!” Jared's hackles bristled, jerking away from Jeff's arms. Jeff could get into some dark, nasty moods but he'd never insulted Jared's abilities in front of a camera before. “I said I'm sure. You don't need fucking Misha replacing me. I've got this.”

“Okay, relax, Jay. You say you got this then I believe you. You've been my star for three years now for a reason. Go take care of him. Deal with him and shit. Get him ready for tomorrow. Don't let him know what's coming.”

“I know my goddamn job, Jeff.”

“Yeah you do. But I see the way you are with him, the way you stop and talk to him, calm him down when he's freaking. And don't think I missed when you skipped over the double flogging yesterday and jumped right into fucking him. You knew I wanted you popping his cherry on the med table. But I let that slide. I've let a lot slide with this kid because I can see you're working him good. I can also see that you like him. So don't get me wrong now. The kid is a prop and you will use him as I say, not how your cock says.”

“Yeah well, I didn't see you stopping the scene. Why didn't you yell 'cut'?”

Jeff laughed. “Are you nuts? It was fucking hot!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared turns Jensen's world upside down again by caring for his wounds

Jensen's body quaked hard between the two men carrying him through the hallways and up two flights of stairs (if they were gonna torture people they could at least have the decency to have an elevator instead of stairs) and he leaned hard, barely able to keep himself up. Despite the burning in his back his body shivered cold. Not a big surprise. He'd taken enough beatings in his life to know that shock was setting in which made it even harder to get up the two flights of stairs with his body trying to crumple up, instinctively trying to roll himself into a ball to protect. At least this time Jensen was alert enough to talk, though not much. Meant he wasn't going to wake up naked and clean and having no idea who'd touched him. He'd felt it important for some reason to know the names of the people who carry his beaten body around. Chad and Rob. Mullet hair and a nervous geek. Great. Apparently the go-to guys, if Jensen was to believe them, though, he got the impression they were closer to the bottom of the totem pole. There was something so non-threatening about them, perhaps the way they constantly bickered back and forth or perhaps that they needed to talk him through every single action – turn here, that's good, step there, great, you're doing great, okay just relax now, we've got you – comments, he could only guess, to keep him pliable and calm. Requests, though, not expectations or commands. They'd moved slowly, laying him on the bed as gently as possible, belly down. He did his best to hide the winces of pain.

“Can we get you anything?” asked Chad. Jensen smirked into the pillow. “How about the key to get out of here?”

He didn't have to turn around to see the two men exchanging nervous glances. “You really should talk to Jared about that.” squirmed Rob. “Anything else? Food, maybe some water? Here, I got you some water.”

Food. Fuck. When was the last time he ate? Lunch, hours ago. They'd obviously filmed through suppertime. His eyes flickered open a moment and he saw Rob holding a small green bottle of spring water. Water sounded nice, too, but that would require movement. No, he could go a little while longer. “Can you cover me up? Think I've shown off enough for one day.”

He heard one of them hiss out a barely audible, 'shit man' but then there was motion, soft sounds and nervous movement. He could almost hear them grimacing as a light blanket's edge draped against his legs. It was Chad who spoke again. “It's gonna hurt, dude.”

Jensen rolled his eyes without even bothering to open them. “No shit, dude.”

The blanket moved like a parachute, air pockets catching and seeping out so slow the cloth seems to only skim over the hot, damaged wounds. It was enough to bring the hiss of fire up a notch and he sucked breath in hard through clenched teeth. He let it out bit by bit as the skin melted into a slow heated throbs, adjusting to the touch.

“Dude, you okay?” Rob asked quietly. “I can take it off if you want.”

“S'okay.” he mumbled. So it might hurt a bit but if offered a modicum of modesty. Besides, the chills were already started. Once the initial stinging faded the warmth of it soothed his body, wrapping him in the loosest cocoon, one of the few things that helped a body in shock. His body was boneless, too sore and used up to move, his mind too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

Rob placed the bottle of water on the night table. “I'll just leave this here for when you want it.”

“Would you guys mind...?” He let it hang, they would know. Any sane person would know what he's asking. They had seen what had been done to him; they'd been in the room with everyone else and had stood by while Jared had him whipped. All he wanted was to be alone, to surrender to exhaustion and let sleep give him a few moments of escape.

Rob spoke up again, moving away. “Oh, right.”

“Sure, man. Like, unless you need something...”

Jensen's eyes squeeze tight, fighting the tears. His rough voice betrayed all the confidence he was faking. “Just the key.”

Across the room the door swung open and the energy in the room changed instantly, drastically. Jensen didn't have to open his eyes and look; he just knew who it was.

“Get out.” Jared said in that cold, quiet, calm that sent a shudder through Jensen. The few moments of respite ended and his trembling heightened, heartbeat quickened to that of any frightened rabbits caught in a wolf's den. He couldn't take any more. His body was broken, he couldn't even move. He knew why Jared was there. The little deal they'd made. He wanted to beg the other two to not leave, to protect him, to help him, but instead they fled with lightning speed, leaving Jensen alone with his abuser. Jensen's breath hitched and the tears seeped out. He pulled his arms up tight to his sides, not much protection, but it was something, coiling tighter, making himself as small as possibly, and pressing a closed fist into his eye socket. In his mind, all his backtalk and determined defiance, all his plans and hopes and dreams evaporated and began mumbling, words so low barely any sound came out, too weak to even voice it. “No more, please. No more.”

“Hey, hey.” Soft soothing sounds drifted closer and the bed shifted. Jensen couldn't stop himself from releasing a frightened whimper as Jared knelt close to him. He was about to beg, cry, anything it would take to stop Jared from taking whatever else he wanted to take but Jared's large hand pressed into the side of his face. “Shh. Relax. It's over. Hush now, my angel.”

The long fingers combed through his hair and pet softly, so incredibly soft that Jensen felt himself melt under them. Everything hurt so much, skin, muscles, bones, heart, head, he needed something soft, and he needed to feel there was still tenderness in the world, in his life. His breath hitched again, unsure, confused and peeked out past his clenched fist. Jared soft smile and gentle eyes peered down at the teary mess in front of him. “That's it. Just relax. Good boy. You did so well for me, Jensen. You made me very happy.”

Jensen felt a flutter in his chest that spread out the warmth to match the touch of the hand. Jared was happy. He'd made Jared happy so maybe there would be no more pain. He let his eyes close again, forcing his breathing deeper, drinking in what had been denied him since this nightmare began and just floated for a moment, just let his mind not question and his body settle into the painfully numbing heat that washed through his flesh. Comforting fingers carded through his hair once more before sliding down the back of his head, cupping gently.

“I need to check your wounds. I'll be as careful as possible. Do you think you can stay still for me while I do it?”

Jensen nodded into the pillow though his body tensed. He knew he was welted bad, pretty sure the skin was shredded the way Chris had whipped him. He could almost imagine lines of red bleeding through the blanket over him which made him as terrified to have the blanket peeled off as he was to have the flesh touched. But if someone was actually going to treat his wounds then he would endure it. And if Jared wanted him to be still for it, then he would do that, too.

Jared shifted on the bed and Jensen tried to prepare himself. He set his gaze on the wall before him, zeroing in on a single small spot and took a breath then another, focusing his mind as he'd taught himself to do so many years ago. The blanket lifted off slowly, just lifted though, didn't stick to the wounds like he'd expected so it mustn't have been left long enough for the blood to soak through. As it pulled away cool air attacked heated skin and he shivered.

“Hush.” Jared said softly, folding it over the Jensen's thighs. Gentle fingers touched Jensen's sides, startling him, then seemed to trace around the sore skin without aggravating anything. The quiet cooing never stopped and before he knew it, Jensen's muscles unclenched and his breathing settled into a slow easy rhythm.

“I'm going to put some cream on you.” Reaching into the night table drawer he pulled out a tube and held it for Jensen to see. “This is the good stuff, angel. It’s an antibacterial, because I don't want you to get an infection, and it also has medicine to numb the worst of the pain.”

Jensen's eyes glanced from the cream to Jared's face, brows furrowing. He wanted to ask but was too afraid. If he opened his mouth, if he said something to piss Jared off, then this kind, pleased Jared might disappear. Jared read the question anyway because he smiled easily and explained. “You took what I wanted you to take; you suffered for me and proved you want to be mine. There's no reason you need to suffer anymore.”

Okay, that didn't make any sense. Suffering seemed to be all Jared wanted from him. He held is tongue, though, and his silence was permission enough. Jared spread out one palm and squeezed out a generous dollop of the white cream before screwing the cap back on and placing the tube back on the night table. He stretched out over Jensen's thighs, his weight pressing down. Despite its heaviness there was warmth, warmth his cold body craved as much as it craved the gentleness moments ago.

At the first touch Jensen's body jolted and he cried out. Jared pulled his fingers from the welt and pressed his other palm around Jensen's neck. “Hush, angel, I need you to stay still. I know this hurts but I don't want you damaged.”

Jensen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, holding it. He nodded. As the fingers touched the welt again, laying a gentle smooth coating of cream Jensen released his breath as his body absorbed the sting.

“Good boy.”

The cream tingled almost immediately, the reignited flame tempered quickly, leaving the welt numb, just a heated throb left to remind Jensen of what was back there. The first touches to each welt stung deep and Jensen sucked breath in hard through clenched teeth but otherwise found a way to be still. Every once in a while Jared would touch a spot, random spots it felt like, where the pain would flare up horribly, drawing out whimpers from the boy. Jared's coos and gentle words never stopped and though Jensen wasn't really sure what was being said he could feel their meaning. They meant that the pain was over, that this was the last of it, that for a little while, perhaps only a few moments, he could rest. Soft touches spread out the cream and twice more Jared pulled out the tube until his full back was covered and the sting in his ass cheeks went dull. Jared had not lied, there was some numbing agent that dropped the stinging pain to a soft throb until it was almost as soothing as the touches that put it there. Jared's hand never really stopped moving across his skin even after each welt was treated and the pain had subsided, touches turning into comforting caresses until Jensen felt his body slipping into a quiet, tranquil state. He wasn't sleeping. He was there but he wasn't there. He felt no worry or fear and just let the quietness take over. Deep down, in the back of his mind, he knew it was a lie but he needed that lie, even if only for a few moments. 

“How bad is it?” he finally asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Not too bad.”

“Will I have many scars?” He cringed at the thought of having permanent reminders for the rest of his life.

“No, pet. No scars.”

“None?” He couldn't believe it was possible to endure such pain without there being something cutting through to his core and leaving its mark for the world to see. Jared moved off his legs and carefully laid the blanket back over Jensen's body then wiped his hands on the corner before crawling up to lay his head on the pillow beside Jensen. The large hand that had caused so much pain reached out towards Jensen's cheek and Jensen flinched, sucking in a shuddering breath. Jared's hand paused in mid-air, giving the boy a moment then ever so gently brushed the back of his fingers across the tear tracks.

“None.” he confirmed gently. “You have some superficial scratches where the whips cut through the outer layer of skin and a few spots where the whip crisscrossed that cut you but they'll heal in no time.”

Jensen's eyes lowered, turning his gaze towards Jared's chest and nodded, not that he believed Jared, because he didn't, but he didn't know if there was anything he could say or should say. His eyes felt so heavy, and he blinked several times to force them open, afraid to fall asleep. Jared's finger curled and touched his chin and brought the boy's gaze back up. “The floggers I use rarely break the skin and even when they do it never lasts. And the reason Chris was brought in to whip you today was because he is one of the best in the business, has total control of what he inflicts and the consequences. You are too beautiful to scar.”

Jensen's tongue flicked out and brushed against his dry bottom lip. Jared's eyes followed its movements, pulling in his own bottom and nibbling a corner. He rested his palm over Jensen's cheek and softly traced his lips with his thumb. The intimate attention sent a ripple of dread through Jensen, reminding him again of the deal they had made, reminding him of his own nakedness under the blanket. Jensen's bottom lip quivered at the touch and Jared's movements stopped, glancing up to meet Jensen's wide frightened eyes.

Jared smiled softly. “You're exhausted. You should sleep.”

Jensen studied him carefully, looking for the trick, the trap and saw nothing. His eyes blinked slowly despite his best efforts.

“Sleep, my angel. You're done for the day.” He gave that slight smile that softened his features, but Jensen noticed it didn't warm his eyes. Jared added, “At the very least, I want you to rest. No one will touch you, I promise. I'll watch over you. Think of this room as your safe place. Unless you disrespect me or outright disobey me you are safe here.”

“No one?”

“No one, not even me. I promise you. And when you wake up we can order pizza or something. You haven't eaten since lunch, right? You must be hungry.”

Jensen nodded against the pillow. Jared's smile grew. “Excellent. We have a plan. Now close your eyes.”

Another lazy blink then Jensen let them stay shut the second time they closed. Darkness slipped over him easily as Jared's fingers soothed flesh and scalp with continuous caresses. Jensen knew it was wrong to allow himself to sink into the comfort it offered but at that moment he couldn't care less, he was too exhausted to deal with it and way too tired to even think about why having Jared promise he would be safe actually made him feel a little safer. If he lasted a full minute before sleep took him away he would not have believed it.

 

It was pain and whips, so many whips, dozens whizzing around him, snapping into walls and floors. Darkness. No one around him. No one near him. Just whips; long slim, black. Seeking him out like tentacles. Tearing at hard edges. Getting closer. Flinching hard Jensen jolted, pain seared it's agony across his back, body arching and bucking and he cried out.

“Shh. Hush, angel. Wake up. You're okay.”

Jensen's eyes snapped opened, wide and terrified, rapidly blinking the nightmare back into the darkness, body trembling. Jared pulled him closer, slipping a long arm under Jensen's head. Movement re-ignited some lingering sting in his back and without being told Jensen knew it was that which triggered the nightmare; real pain seeping into his dreams to twist them into hell. Jared's large palm pressed against the side of his head, pulling him into his chest. Jensen stiffened and pulled away instinctively before he could stop himself.

“Stay still.” commanded Jared quietly. “I told you I won't hurt you.”

Jensen stilled; his entire body a single tense nerve. He didn't like to snuggle, hadn't, in fact, even slept with another person since he was a young boy, when he'd curled up with other foster kids after nightmares, bad beatings or really bad days. It had been years, hell, maybe even a decade. And even if he was he wouldn’t want to cuddle up against the man who had done so many horrible things to him. He didn't know how to pull away without upsetting Jared. Jared wrapped one warm palm around his shoulder and brought the other to caress his face, in essence, wrapping himself around the frightened boy.

“That was the second nightmare in less than an hour. So I want you to let me hold you. I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe in my arms while you sleep.” He caught Jensen's chin and brought his gaze up, locking eyes with him. “Do you believe me?”

Jared had turned off the light but there was still enough moonlight slipping through the curtains to see each other face. Jensen's eyes looked hard at Jared, looking for the monster who had raped him, beat him and held him while insisting he accept the horrible whipping. But he wasn't there. The eyes were as kind as each touch had been; a mixture of brown and green with flecks of gold, and as gentle as the encouraging words that had helped him to take the whipping. And the embrace was warm and comfortable, his body no longer trembling. The cream had eased most of the pain except when he moved. Since coming into the room Jared had done nothing threatening, nothing meant to hurt. Jensen had no idea how to take that. Maybe, maybe because Jensen had taken the whipping and made Jared happy that he was being rewarded. Maybe he wouldn't have to take any more whippings. Maybe he had earned this.

He nodded his head.

“Say it.”

Jensen started to speak but his voice broke. He cleared his throat. “I believe you.”

Jared smiled brightly and kissed his forehead. It was chaste and sweet and when they both settled back down Jensen's body pressed just a bit more into the warmth of the other man, nuzzling his cheek into the broad chest. His eyes closed and he soon fell back asleep to the calming drumming of Jared's heartbeat.  
 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is safe when Jared's in a mood.

Jared did the whole supportive teddy bear crap as long as he could, but after two hours of barely dozing and watching his battered angel sleep soundly boredom overtook him. Didn't help that every time he heard small pained whimpers from Jensen or saw hints of the welts and darkening bruises whenever the blanket shifted his cock twitched in his pants reminding him he'd yet to find is own release since Jensen's whipping. It was more of a cerebral hard-on, the physical aspects all fine and dandy but the heady rush of power as Jensen submitted and endured for him reached far deeper inside Jared, warming the dark hungers and needs so few could. He knew it would not be sated with just a physical climax, not completely. He would need so much more before he'd be ready to throw away this delicious morsel of flesh and suffering presently sleeping beside him. His fingers grazed softly through Jensen's hair, carding it away from his forehead and sighed ever so softly. It never did last, though.

His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts. He'd skipped dinner since they'd had a late shoot but with the late spring moon creeping up the sky Jared's stomach was starting to think his throat had been slit. He needed food. Needed to move. Needed to vent a little of the energy stored up inside his large body. He slipped carefully out of bed and stepped out of the room to order pizza, pausing a moment, not knowing what type of toppings the kid liked, but to be honest he didn't really care. Pizza was pizza after all. However, he was trying to be all considerate and shit. Well, whatever. If Jensen didn't like it covered in meat and extra onions then he could just damn well scrape it off.

When that was done he shoved the cell phone into his pocket and glanced back at the closed bedroom door. He wanting to be there when his new pet woke up but he was still feeling the tension in his body. Fucking Jeff and his alpha dog bullshit. It wasn't often someone put Jared into that position, not anymore at least. Jeff was perhaps the only person in the world who could get away with that. It just didn't make sense him pulling it now. Jared was working the kid really well, the shots he'd been seeing were fantastic, feedback had been awesome; the kid was a natural at submitting. A fucking natural. As if he was born to live on his knees. Okay, maybe not his knees, each and every time Jared pushed him the kid fought, reached inside and found some strength he'd held back before, but when he broke, when he fell apart into tiny pieces for Jared so the camera could pick up every little shard of him it was damn poetic. A tarnished angel for every credit card carrying pervert who wanted to share in his shame. So what the hell was Jeff's fucking problem? Threatening to replace him with Misha! Jared released a low growl. He needed to deal with this, vent a little. But he didn't have time to hit the gym, not when he was on babysitting duty, and there were no shoots going on for him to let loose in. His dark eyes flickered up and down the hallway. He grinned. He did have a few minutes. Maybe he should pop into the editing room and see what the geek was working on. He hadn't dropped in there in over a month.

The editing department was on the other side of the building on the main floor, closer to the front office where the pizza was being delivered so it wasn't like he was going out of his way. He popped his head into the lobby, seeing Becky on duty.

“Hey, Becks. I ordered a pizza. Be a good girl and pay for it with the company card and page me when it gets here.”

Her face lit up. He had to smile, even laugh, watching as she glowed, like someone stuffed a light bulb pumpkin style into her head turning her all white teeth and goofy grin every time she saw him. He didn't usually do women, too fragile for his liking, but one day he might give her a run.

“Sure thing, Jared. Anything else you need, anything at all, you just let me know.”

He laughed, shaking his head and turned away. Who was he kidding? No way would he hit that. Eager little sluts like her lacked challenge, good for an occasional blowjob when there was no one else around, but nothing more. Besides, there were always little pleasures to be found around the building. Several doors down from the lobby was the editing department; a rather large room filled to cramming with computers and machines, shelves lined with reels and tapes just waiting to be cut up, manipulated and put on DVD. He paused as he came up to the open door and glanced in, checking for Jeff. The overhead light was off but he didn't need it to see, enough computer monitors around the room was more than enough to show there was only one person inside. Everyone else must have gone for the day. Quietly Jared slipped into one of the chairs beside AJ Buckley, their resident genius editor. His attention so focused on the equipment in front of him it was as if he didn't even notice he had company. Jared smirked. Not many people in the world could stay so oblivious when a 6'4” sadistic bastard dropped in for a visit. AJ was like that, though, focused on one thing, only one thing, and everything else disappeared. Jared watched silently as AJ worked, noting he was already working on today's shoot. He knew Jeff had put a rush on everything Jensen, but it had only been a couple of hours. This was fast, even for AJ's talents. After a few moments the editor seemed to be satisfied with the merging of the three camera shorts to gather a circular view of the whipping, from Jensen's face, clear and frightened, around his right side, body shivering, flinching, angle shifting back, taking in Chris, the whips, the grace of movement. Christ Chris was beautiful when working. Then, the view slipping around behind Chris, taking in Jensen's back, watching the leather snapping out and laying into alabaster skin, decorating barely marked flesh and creating a canvass of red and pink welts. Altering to another camera, coming back along Jensen's left side until finally returning to his face, now clenching up, glistening in tears and agony, glassy green eyes turning up to beg Jared as matching words whimpered from full bitten swollen lips. The desperation and suffering on Jensen was one of the most exquisite things Jared had ever seen in his life. Jared arched a brow, nodding slightly to himself. AJ might be a bit of a freak but the man was also an artist.

“Sweet.” said Jared, breaking the quiet. AJ jolted hard, one hand reaching for his keyboard as if he could protect it, or maybe it could protect him, and the other jumping to clutch over his chest. ”Jesus fuck, man!”

Jared laughed.

Slowly AJ settled back into his seat, a blush of embarrassment driving his attention away, ducking his head down to hide his reaction and typed a few things. “Not cool, man. You could, like, knock or something.”

“Where would the fun in that be?”

“Yeah well... Jeff doesn't like when you fuck with me when I'm doing this. Says it screws up my rhythm so maybe you might want to think of that.”

AJ’s body stilled in his seat, statue still, even before the words were out of his mouth. Some days Jared would let the attitude slide, some days he wouldn't, leaving the editor unsure of how his little slip would be received. All in all it wasn't the worst thing he could have said, not even really disrespectful. Only, Jared was in a mood. He didn't need to see to know AJ's eyes were widening with each silent second that ticked by and could practically taste the regret and anxiety rolling off him, barely hearing the near silent curse slipping from between his lips. Slowly, his head turned to the larger man.

“I didn't mean anything. You know that right?” whispered AJ quickly.

Jared's lips coiled into a dark smirk, already feeling a shiver of heat twirling through his loins. Keeping his movements slow, drawing out the moment and giving AJ every chance to stop him or to run, but Jared knew he wouldn't. He knew as he turned AJ's rolling office chair around until the two men were facing each other that he would do nothing to jeopardize pissing off Jared more than he believed his smart mouth already had.

AJ all but shrunk in his chair, pushing his 5'9” frame against the back, hands gripping at the armrests so tight the knuckles whitened. “Jared...”

Jared's wolfish grin and cold eyes silenced his prey while wrapping a large hand into the cloth of his button up shirt, pinching it slowly, watching the nervousness shutter through the blue eyes. “Come on, Jared, man. You know I won't say anything to him.”

Jared arched a brow, twisting his hand harder, gripping each side of the collar just a bit tighter, noose-like, and watched the nervousness turn to fear. He asked, “You think I'm afraid of Jeff?”

“No.” he said quickly, trying to shake his head. “I know you're not.”

“That's right. I'm not.” Jared gave a tug, pulling the other man closer. AJ released the slightest little whimper, eyes closing briefly, obviously fighting to control his reaction, putting up no resistance as Jared pulled him from the chair. AJ's body, limp with fear, melted forward, sinking down to his knees. Jared watched the shame burn brighter, tainting pale flesh on cheeks highlighted under the monitor’s lights. He released the shirt only to slid his fingers through the dark hair and pulling AJ's head back, forcing the blue eyes up to meet his.

“You might be an eager little bitch who loves being on his knees, but I'm not. I respect Jeff but I don't fear him. You want to tell him about this little visit and your smart ass mouth, go ahead. I'll deal with the consequences. Nothing I can't handle.”

“I know. You can handle anything.”

“Such a little suck up today.” Twisting the grip of dark hair he pulled AJ's head forward, forcing him face over his groin, not touching, hovering, forcing AJ to face the hard lead stretching his pants. “Is that what you want, bitch? You want to suck up?”

A visible shudder drove through AJ and he whimpered again. “Jared...please...”

Jared rolled his hips wantonly, barely missing the trembling lips so close to his leather covered cock. “Begging for it already? You want it so bad? Tell me the truth.”

A near silent mewl seeped out from beneath him that only helped to fan Jared's fires. He gripped the hair tighter, knowing it hurt. A message to speak, to answer. No hiding in silence. “Come on, bitch, be honest. You want to suck my dick?”

When AJ finally spoke it was with a quiet fatalism. “No.”

Jared's hips slowly writhed, pressing the face down into his hard erection, forcing AJ to shuffle on his knees, hands grabbing at his own thighs, knowing full well not to touch Jared. Heated breath and warm lips teased out Jared own little moan. He had to swallow, wet his throat. There was nothing like having someone on his knees, someone who really didn't want to be there.

“No you don't. Maybe you'd rather I just bend you over your desk here. That what you want?” Jared grinned, deep and dark and drinking in the reactions, the slight trembling, the surrender, and the little frightened whimpers his words brought out. He continued without waiting for an answer. “Maybe what you really want if for me to take you out back again. Want to go into the barn with me? A little private overtime, just you and me?” He pressed the face down harder, grinding his hips up. “Like last time. Remember last time?”

AJ's broken whimper muffled directly into Jared's throbbing hunger. 

“Remember how you cried like a bitch when I showed you how a real man uses a cock? Squealed like a fucking pig.”

Jared closed his eyes, sinking into the memory. It had been just after Jeff had explained to AJ that there were consequences to gambling money he didn't have. Just after Jeff had explained how AJ's life would belong to Jeff until such debt was paid off by working at the studio. Jared had taken the frightened man into the barn and emphasized the point for several hours. AJ had been a pliant little bitch ever since, no fighting, no arguing, just trying to get through it. Jerking the kneeling man's head back bringing glistening blue gaze to meet his, Jared grinned into the tears, feeling the heat pooling in his body at the influx of power, feeling the absolute helplessness of the person at his feet. Not the man. He would never call AJ a man. One time with Jared, one time and he just buckled and rolled over, showing his belly. “You'd let me take you out back again, wouldn't you? Even though you fucking hate it. You would let me turn you into the grovelling little bitch again. Wouldn't you?”

Tears blinked out of the blue eyes. AJ swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing the length of his throat, breath coming in little pants. He nodded, shame burning so bright and crimson Jared grinned coldly. “Yeah, you would. You'll bend over and spread for me any time I say. And we both know why, don't we?”

Again a slow arduous nod as if it was taking everything out of AJ. Fucking pitiful. Jared shoved hard, throwing the kneeling man back, sending him crashing against his own chair as it rammed into the desk, but did nothing to move or protect himself. His body curled and meek, head bowed down in disgrace.

“You're fucking pathetic. And you have no one to thank but yourself for the position you are in.” Releasing his belt Jared then undid his pants, pushing them down to his thighs and released his cock; already throbbing and red, swollen for hours now. “Get over here and show me what that smart ass mouth is really good for.”

AJ rubbed a trailing tear from his cheek, shifting back to his knees, his eyes stealing a glance to the open door then up to Jared. 

“Please. May I close the door?” he asked, whispering, as if afraid to voice anything that could make his ordeal worse. 

Jared's grin widened, all dimpled cheeks and cruel dark eyes. “What's the matter, AJ? Afraid everyone'll know what a cocksucker you are?”

The shame deepened in his cheeks and turned back down, wrapping a hand around the base of Jared's cock. “They already know. Jeff's not shy about it either.”

Jared laughed, wrapping his hand around the nape of his head and pulling AJ down. “Get to work, bitch. I've got better things to do than sit here listening to you whine.”

He let out a sigh of contentment as the warm mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. AJ had gotten much better in the eight months he'd been working there, so Jared just leaned back and let him work, never releasing his grip at the back of his neck. It wasn't really like he had anything against the guy. Not really. But like Estelle, AJ let himself become vulnerable through his own greed, looking for the big score and thinking he could find it in a deck of cards or the roll of the dice. Vulnerable people deserve what they get. If he won't stand up and take life like a man then why should anyone else treat him as such? In all honesty, though, as prey in the cross-hairs, he was really rather dull. He lacked the innocent youth Jared loved to exploit and his fatalistic submission did nothing to alter that. Jeff didn't mind using warm bodies like blow up dolls, his mind was usually on business anyway, but Jared would prefer a little life behind the glistening tears in green eyes. Green eyes. Green eyes that would meet his, wide in agony or shame, searching Jared's eyes for something Jared knew he didn't have. Green eyes looking for hope or mercy or perhaps even humanity, weaknesses and vulnerabilities he scoured out of his heart and soul long before he ever set eyes on the green eyed angel. Hell, they were gone long before he even met Jeff. But to see that hope in Jensen's face as the whip bore deep into his skin, watching it fade with every buck of his writhing body and scream torn from his throat. Jared's hand gripped the hair tighter at the back of AJ's head, thrusting his hips up as he pushed down, forcing himself deeper into the warm unresisting cavern, but it was not AJ he saw, it was the green eyed angel choking on his cock, it was the hope fading with every blinking stare as he gasped for breath, nostrils flaring, tears glistening and streaming down his pale freckled face.

“Fuck!” howled Jared, head snapping back as he came hard. Hips drove in, pushing him off the chair as his cock throbbed out each shot of come, not releasing his punishing grip until his body collapse back into the chair. He gasped quickened breath, swallowing again and again to regained composure, barely aware of the soft licks of AJ's warm tongue cleaning him off. When finally blinking back into focus Jared stood up, tucking his spent cock back in and refastening his pants, staring down at the unmoving form beneath him. AJ kept his head bowed. Jared grabbed his chin and jerked it up. The face was wet with tears, drool and come, filth and degradation, and hollowness in his eyes. A familiar sight for the people who'd knelt before Jared. Jared watched him a moment as he finished buckled his belt, contemplating. That was it. That was what was different with Jensen. Even after he'd been tricked, sold, abused and raped, learned he'd been betrayed and would endure only more of the same there was no hollowness in his eyes. No emptiness. Estelle had said he had no family, ran from a group home, but even with that Jared had seen no hollowness. Earlier when speaking with Jeff Jared had contemplated whether Jensen was broken or bent, he'd been unsure; reacting on a feeling more than logic, but now he was sure. Jensen wasn't broken. He hadn't broken the night before when he'd learned his fate nor that evening when he'd submitted to it. But it wasn't that he had just bent. He was more than the weed in a high wind. It wasn't just that he hadn't broken. He'd adapted. Suddenly Jared couldn't wait to get back to him; wanting to see if the whipping and forced surrender had done it. He had to look into those green eyes.

He patted AJ's cheek. “Good boy.”

AJ was out of his thoughts before Jared even left the room.

*~*~*

With the pizza balanced on one hand Jared closed the bedroom door behind him and stopped, eyes drinking in the still vision before him. Jensen had barely moved on the bed since Jared left, still mostly on his belly, one knee bent slightly to hold his weight, blanket pulled up to his neck, only the arm that had been draped over Jared reached out naked across the bed. The fingers of the exposed hand rested in a loose fist, fingerprint bruises lightly decorating his bicep and shoulder, mostly, Jared believed, from their first scene together. He took a moment to count the boy's breaths.

“I don't appreciate you faking sleep when I'm in the room.” he said quietly, moving towards the bed, curious to see if Jensen would jump up apologizing or continue his ruse. There was no movement, not even a flicker of eyelids or change in his breathing, only an equally quiet voice. “Not faking. Just not moving.”

“Is that so?”

“Figured you'd do whatever you wanted or tell me to do whatever you wanted. Didn't think my participation was really relevant to you otherwise.”

“You thought wrong. Your participation is very important to me.”

Releasing a soft sigh Jensen finally moved, eyes blinking open first, then shoulders rolling, stretching out the skin. Jared dropped the pizza box onto the end of the bed and watched carefully. Each movement, as subtle as they were, from slowly rolling his head on his shoulders to straightening out his legs and giving the tiniest groan when stretching his spine, was an exercise of survival. The boy was testing the damage, working through knotted muscles and tension filled flesh until finally he rolled over, sitting up, making a point of holding the blanket up to his chest.

“You've been beaten before.” said Jared. It was a statement, not a question so Jensen didn't respond to it, other than looking up and meeting Jared's gaze. Jared cocked his head, sinking into those eyes, looking, searching, and reading. People say that eyes are the window to the soul and maybe that was true. Jared knew eyes, knew how to read them and see past the fiction people displayed to the world. He'd learned a very long time ago never to trust a smile when the eyes were dark, not to fall for tears when a glitter of lust shone, and never to surrender to passion when the hazed fog of need ruled. Mostly though, he'd learned to read when violence was coming, when submission was real, and when panic would take over. Eyes were his template, a template that exposed everything he would take from a soul, expose every secret want or fear for him to exploit until he could drain that soul and make it into something useful for him or into nothing at all. And Jensen was no different. It was all there begging to be understood. Caution but not fear, submission, but not surrender. 

Jared smirked. This boy, his whore, his slave, his angel, was too fun.

“Come eat. You must be starving.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a meal with Jared, Jensen tried to crawl his way out of this nightmare, only for it to go horribly wrong

Jensen pulled his eyes away from Jared to glance at the box on the bed, his stomach growling at just the thought of food. Part of him wanted to refuse, to not hand over his need to eat to Jared, something else the man would control, but a much larger part of him wanted something that he could obey, something he could give Jared without it causing him more pain and shame. He dropped his eyes to the blanket before him and nodded his obeisance yet he didn't move.

“Jensen?” There was a warning in the tone he couldn't miss and cautiously lifted his gaze back up, peeking out through his eyelashes. He knew it made him look young and vulnerable but it also made him look submissive, which he knew Jared wanted. And until he could figure a way out of this horror, a way to escape or get word out that he was being held against his will then he would play that game for Jared. So far each time he'd given in and gave Jared what he wanted the cruelty ended. So far his submission and obedience had brought out a kinder side in the man who raped and beat him. So if he could stay on that side of Jared, if he could keep away the sadistic bastard maybe he could get through this. He cleared his throat. “May I wear clothes while I eat?”

Jared went to the bureau and rummaged through, finally pulling a few things out and tossing them to the bed beside Jensen. Without hesitating Jensen pulled the t-shirt over his head, barely able to hold in the wince as his whipped skin stretched out over shifting muscles. Then he pulled on the sweatpants. Both items were too big, they did belong to Jared after all, and he doubted he ever felt more content in his life to be dressed, covered, safe within a barrier of cotton. A stupid notion, perhaps. No clothes could protect him from Jared, but it was so much better than being naked with his vulnerability displayed giving God only knew what ideas to the bastard in control.

“Thank you.”

“Just remember, what I give I can take away.”

Jensen swallowed back the threat and nodded. “I know.”

He moved towards the box waiting for Jared to grab a couple of drinks from the pint sized fridge in the corner, beer for himself and a bottle of water for Jensen. Jensen took the water and nodded to the other bottle in Jared's hand. “I can't have one of those?”

“Legal drinking age is 21. Wouldn't want to be accused of corrupting a minor, now, would I?”

Jensen blanched, knowing it was a joke but it was a sick fucked up joke coming from Jared. Ignoring Jensen’s reaction, Jared settled onto the end of the bed, opening up the pizza box. Delicious scents filled the air, heat rising off the food and the moment he saw the piles of meat and cheese and peppers and onions Jensen couldn't contain his hungry moan. It really had been a while since he'd been able to afford pizza, having lived on mac and cheese or even cheaper noodles for longer than the few months he'd been in California. Meat was a luxury and things like takeout were a fantasy. He took the offered slice and didn't hesitate to take a mouthful. Tastes he’s almost forgotten exploded in his mouth. God, it was good. They sat in silence for a while, both enjoying the meal. It wasn't until they were on their second piece when Jared finally spoke.

“You're feeling better?”

Jensen's eyes flickered quickly to Jared's face; seeking out the farce of concern he must have heard, but saw nothing. Nothing but what it seemed and he really didn't get it. How could someone rape and beat another person and then the next day or hours later or, for that matter, ever, act with compassion and care? Jensen's eyes dropped away as he pushed himself to sit crossing legged. Almost all Jensen's life he had heard lies mingled with fake compassion but social workers and foster parents had their roles to play, sometimes if only for each other. 

“Yeah. Cream worked well and sleep helped.” he answered softly. Then to be on the safe side, he added, “Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure. Part of my job is to take care of you.”

“Right. Rape, whip, comfort and feed. Must be an interesting resume you have.” Words slipping out before Jensen could stop himself. 

As soon as he realized what he had said his heart thumped in his chest and his eyes snapped up to meet Jared's to see the light hazel swirling into darker, shades. Fuck. Not a good look for Jared, not where Jensen was concerned. He spoke quickly. “You've gotta admit it's a strange job you have.”

“Take off the shirt.”

A shudder of panic claimed Jensen's body. “Jared, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Was just saying.”

Jared's lips twisted into a smirk, but the dark coldness only deepened and Jensen knew his reaction was being taken as disobedience. The last thing he wanted, at least until he'd healed. Hands gripped at the hem of his shirt and pulled it quickly off. He didn't know what to do with it so he folded it on his lap then held it out to Jared, his eyes peering up through his eyelashes again. “I didn't mean anything by it. You scare the shit out of me and I say dumb things when I'm scared.”

Jared arched his brow at that and held Jensen's gaze for nearly a moment. Jensen knew his words were being weighed. He could feel the sweat trickle down his naked back, stinging into the welts. He held the gaze as long as he dared, but then he couldn't anymore; he couldn't look into the face of the man who held his very life in his hands, who took so much pleasure in his torment. Finally, Jared took the shirt and tossed it onto the bureau.

“Where're you from, Jen?”

Jensen blinked at the sudden change in both conversation and tone and looked up. He swallowed mouthfuls of water to drench his throat and give himself time to catch up. “Texas.”

Jared grinned. “No shit. Me too. San Antonio.”

“Austin.” Not true but Jared didn't need to know. Besides, it’s harder to find info on someone from a bigger city, especially if it's the wrong city.

Jared nodded; taking another bite of pizza, eyes flickering to the one Jensen had dropped back into the box. Jensen picked it up and took a bite.

“What made you decide to be an actor?”

Jensen shrugged, eyes focused on his pizza and sunk into the familiar lie. “My dad acts in a small theatre back home, grew up watching him rehearse. He was always going on about 'if he had made it big' and I guess I just always wanted to be like him. He and my mom are really supportive of my decision. Scared I came out here on my own but supportive.” A thought came to Jensen, his heart thudded excitedly in his chest. “I have to call them once a week for an update, you know how parents are. They need to know everything, make sure I have enough money, that I'm safe. Supposed to call them tomorrow night. They already knew I had an audition this week. I called them right after Estelle told me about the part, I mean, supposed part, I was up for here.”

Keeping his eyes on his pizza, not daring to look up, he took another bite, waiting to see if Jared would fall for it.

“So what do you think'll happen when you don't call tomorrow night?”

He swallowed down his barely chewed pizza, pulse racing. “Don't know, never happened before. Probably call Estelle, demand to know what's happening. Then if they aren't happy my dad'll probably come out here.”

“I see.”

Jensen dared a glance up, but Jared's face was blank, just sitting all stretched out on his side, leaning against an elbow with a half-eaten piece of pizza in his hands, like they were two buddies just hanging out. “So you're close to them?”

Jensen nodded. “Pretty close. I guess it's because I'm an only child. Was always just the three of us. It was hard for them when I left but they understood I needed to make it on my own.”

He turned his attention back to the pizza, eating everything and then buying a bit more time he draining his water bottle. When it was done he glanced at the box, wondering if he dared reach for a third piece. He stole a glance up and saw that Jared had not moved. “What?”

Jared tossed his half eaten second piece into the box and closed it carefully. He pushed off the bed, grabbing the box and moving it to the bureau where he dropped it. He let out a sigh. Jensen's heart pattered hard in his chest silently watching Jared's back. Tension rippled through Jensen's body, feeling like his skin was too tight. He glanced quickly around the room, wanting nothing more than to run, but the door was locked, no doubt, and other than perhaps a lamp he had nothing he could use as a weapon. “Jared, what is it?”

Jared turned slowly, letting his dark hazel eyes narrow at the boy on the bed. “You really want to play this out, pet?”

Jensen cursed to himself. Fuck. Jared knew or suspected he was lying. He licked his lips slowly; mind racing to find a solution, any solution that would not bring pain preferably. This he was good at, this he had experience with. So long as he could keep Jared talking. If he held onto the lie, declared it as truth and was caught later the consequences would be bad. But there was no way Jared could know how much of what he'd told him was a lie. Could he? How much could he have really learned about his latest victim in twenty-four hours? He chose his words carefully.

“You can't blame me for trying.”

A flare of fury flashed through those hazel eyes, voice dripping so cold a shiver screamed it's warning down Jensen's spine. “Can't I?”

“What is it you want me to tell you?” He raised his voice slightly, letting the beginning of his own anger seep through, knowing the thin ice he was about to step onto. “We're not buddies, Jared. We're not friends. You're holding me hostage, you fucking raped and whipped me and now you want to share life stories. Well, fucking forgive me for not wanting my rapist to know my parents didn't even try and stop me. So long as they get their obligatory phone call once a week so they can look good to the neighbours and I don't ask for money they couldn't give a shit.”

He pushed off the other side suddenly, putting as much possible space, and the bed, between them. “And, okay so I lied to you. What do I get? Another beating? Gonna rape me again? Well go ahead. Not like I can stop you anyway. But just because you kidnap me and make me go through all that shit for your disgusting movies doesn’t give you the right to know about my life.” He swallowed hard and stepped on the thinnest ice, knowing full well the consequences of his next words could go one of three ways. Either Jared would accept what he says, take it as a challenge, or he would beat the hell out of Jensen for his audacity. Jensen knew which one he was hoping for. “I can't stop you from doing what you do to me. But that's the outside. That's my body. I'll give you everything you want. I won't fight you. I'll submit like I did earlier, give you my obedience, just like you want. But I won't give you my soul. You can't have that, Jared.”

He couldn't breathe, heart pounding so loudly it would have drummed out every sound in the room if there was any. However, there was nothing but silence. For the longest time, only a moment or two in reality, Jared said and did nothing. His hip rested again the bureau arms crossed at his chest and he watched Jensen so completely Jensen felt as if nothing else in the world existed to the monster. To Jensen it felt like he was actually being seen. To Jared he wasn't a monthly government pay check or a convenient maid in the house. He wasn't the orphan kid in the dirty clothes. He wasn't a shadow who needed to stay quiet and out from underfoot. He wasn't a mistake to be shunned or a piece of garbage to be thrown away or ignored. The same way he had looked at him in the office when they met, the same way he'd looked at him when Jensen was kneeling and crying. No one had ever looked at him like that. It was how Jensen had always wanted to be seen. Just not from something as vile and corrupt as Jared.

“You think you get to make that choice?” asked Jared evenly.

Jensen swallowed hard and dropped his eyes. No, he didn't, but he had to try, he had to hold onto something, even if it was the lies he'd told himself. Even if it was just the scattered fragments of what could have been that he'd held onto all his life. But after everything Jared had already taken from him, physically, sexually and mentally, Jensen really didn't know if he could hold out. He just didn't need Jared to know that.

Fingers touched his chin and he flinched hard, pressing his back hard into the wall, reigniting life back into the welts. Jared lifted his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Jensen hadn't even heard him move around the bed and with the first feather light touch his body began to tremble. He blinked hard, trying to chase away the fear prickling his eyes.

“Who beat you?” asked Jared.

Jensen's heart pounded so fast; that was not where he let his mind go. Ever. It took a second, a split second to call up every ounce of anger he'd ever held in his life, that impotent fury that had controlled him for so long until he learned to control it, that insatiable need to not be destroyed. It drained him and he let it wash through him, and then refilled him. He pressed his welted back harder into the wall, feeding on the pain it sent through him, letting it focus him, and he met Jared's eyes pointedly.

“You did.”

“Before me.”

“Never said I was beaten before.”

“But you were. Often would be my guess.” He cocked his head, lips curling into that cold smirk. “Not afraid of me anymore, pet?”

Jensen realized as Jared's eyes roamed him briefly that the larger man had noticed the trembling had stopped. “Terrified of you actually.” No sense lying there.

“But not afraid of the pain I might inflict.”

Pressing hard into the wall, Jensen let its coolness sooth his sweaty, stinging back, drawing on its support. “Terrified of that, too.”

“But not so terrified to keep you from lying to me.”

“I'm not lying.”

The smile spread across Jared's lips, a smile that on any other person would be beautiful, even dazzling, all dimples and white teeth, but on this sadist's face it only promised horrors. “You're right. You're not. But you aren't admitting it, either.” He chuckled darkly. “So you like games, do you? Very well, then I have a game for you.”

He pulled away, leaving Jensen to sink into the wall, finally able to expand his lungs and breathe with Jared out of his face. He watched the older man carefully out of the corner of his eye. Jared moved to what Jensen knew to be a locked door, taking keys from his pocket and seeking out the right one. Jensen remained silent, easing himself carefully across the wall until his shoulder met the corner. He could get no further away and still it was too close. Jared opened the door revealing a rather large full walk-in closet; shirts, pants – a few dress pants and jeans, but mostly leather – and jackets hanging from a rod, and then other things, boxes and bags shoved underneath. Before he could really get a good look inside his attention was jerked away at the sound of chains dropping to the floor. Eyes widened even more a second later when they were quickly joined by two sets of leather cuffs. Heart threatening to break out of his chest he battled to control the rising fear. Christ. Jared was going to chain him. Was going to chain him and beat him and there was no one else around, not that cold director guy who wanted his movies made, not those callous cameramen or lighting and sound people, no PAs or God only knew who else who had just watched everything that happened. There was no one who would be there if Jared went too far. Jared could kill him or mutilate him and there was nothing that would stop him.

“Foster father!” Words burst out of him before he even knew he was going to speak. Terrified eyes broke away from the chains and cuffs to find Jared looking at him, breath coming in little pants he continued. “I was with him for a year and a half. Guy had a temper.”

Jared nodded, making a bit of a face as if to say it was the answer he expected. Instead of stopping he reached once more into the closet and pulled out a black leather bag, the kind people use on overnight journeys. He tossed the bag onto the floor where it landed with a loud thud on the thick carpet on the far side of the bed. Then he picked up the cuffs and chains off the floor.

“Fuck, Jared. I told you. It's the truth. I swear it. You don't need to do this.”

He dropped the chains on the bed and started straightening them out, finding ends. “I told you we were gonna play a game.”

“What? Beat the Hostage?”

Jared's dark laughter did nothing to ease the rising panic. “We're gonna play Truth or Dare.”

A cold shiver sent goose bumps dancing across the naked flesh. That did not sound good. Jared busied himself with attaching the chains to hooks already imbedded in the wall before attaching the wrist cuffs and draping them over the top corners. He caught Jensen's eyes as he moved down to the bottom of the bed. “But first we're going to play my own little version of Hangman.”

Oh fuck, that really sounded bad. Panic seized his throat and he could do nothing but press himself hard into the wall as he watched Jared attached the cuffs and chains near the foot of the bed. Only when his eyes took in the large king size bed and the cuffs at all corners pointing towards the centre did he find his voice. “Jared, please don't do this. I'm sorry I lied. It was a bad time in my life, a really bad time and I don't like thinking about it. I never told anyone.”

“Never told your parents?”

Jensen's eyes snapped up to see Jared watching him with that all-encompassing gaze. Shit. Lies catching up to him. He dropped his eyes. “Wouldn't matter if I did so why bother?”

“Wrong answer, pet. Take the sweats off.”

“Fuck.” he hissed in frustration. Did Jared actually expect him to just obey and let this happen? Of course he did. He'd said he would obey. And whether he obeyed or not there was nothing stopping Jared. His eyes caught sight of the black bag. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Whatever I want.”

Jensen swallowed that cold hard truth, throat rippling painfully dry and closed his eyes, fighting to get control of himself enough to think. When he looked up again he saw the other man had moved closer, standing an arm's length away. Jensen's voice came out small, begging. “Jared, please.”

Jared's cold eyes flickered to sweatpants then back up again, his message clear. Jensen knew he could fight, maybe for a bit, but Jared would get what he wanted in the end and all the delay would do would be piss him off more. And pissing a cruel sadistic bastard off was the last thing Jensen wanted to do. He turned his head away, heat blooming up his neck and through his face, painting pink across his cheeks as he shed the sweatpants, kicking them to the floor beside him to stand naked in every way possible before the person he feared most in the universe. For the longest time Jared just stared at him, eyes roaming over flesh like gentle touches, leaving warmth in their wake that shivered to goose bumps soon after. The gaze was too personal, too intimate, and even earlier, even in front of the cameras with so many people watching he never felt so exposed. It pointed out his vulnerability and powerlessness. Then it got worse, so much horribly worse when he felt the warmth sizzling in his groin, responding and reacting to being looked at like that, as only Jared seemed to look at him. His shame burned so deep, driving the pinks in his face to blossom darker, turning scarlet. Something had to seriously be wrong with him for his body to react any way except dread with the man who'd hurt him so much already. He heard the dark quiet chuckle and knew that Jared had noticed as well.

“How much will this hurt?”

“That's completely up to you.”

Jensen dared to glance back up, seeking out the lie and seeing only the smirk. “I don't understand.”

“That's because I haven't explained the rules yet.” He stepped in, pressing them chest to chest, his taller frame wrapping around Jensen. Jared dropping his left forearm to the wall by his captive's head while the other began sliding down to the boy's hip. Jensen's frightened whimper gasped out before he could stop it then sucked in a breath, holding it within him, clenching his jaw tight to hide the quiver.

“Would you like to know the rules?”

“If I said no would it make a difference?”

Jared's chuckle rumbled through Jensen's body. “No, pet. But knowing them might help you avoid punishment.”

“That’s possible?” Peering up through his lashes he saw the nod of Jared's head, long chestnut tresses dancing around his amused grin. Jensen nodded back. “Okay. I'd like to know then.” then quickly added, “Please.”

Jared purred, rolling his hips into the unresisting body before him leaving his hand to caress up the soft skin then down again, wrapping around until he had a handful of Jensen's ass. Dipping his head down he trailed his tongue across the boy's shoulder until he found a small spot behind his ear to nibble on. Jensen's head snapped back, almost banging into the wall to fight the pleasure tingling through him. He bit his bottom lip hard to keep himself quiet.

“God, I love you like this, all innocent and afraid, pliant and obedient. It's like you were made for me.”

Jensen just closed his eyes as he was being touched and teased, trying desperately to do nothing to entice or reject Jared, though, deep down he knew it made no difference. Nothing he ever did ever seemed to. He also knew he really didn't like how his body was reacting to the gentle rolling of Jared's groin against his. Perhaps a distraction would help. “What are the rules?”

Jared chuckled again, releasing the bit of skin he'd been softly sucking on, pulling his face back enough to watch Jensen as he thrust his hips forward to grind against the naked boy. Jensen barely had time to bite back a gasp of pleasure. Jared pulled his body back an inch or two, dropping to the wall beside him. The hand from his hip slid up, teasing skin along the belly, caressing through abs then over to play the indents of the exposed ribs. Each bit of contact warmed and taunted out cravings Jensen had denied for years; that ache to be touched and wanted. It made his body's reaction all that more traumatic, that finally when someone caressed him, when someone found reason to be this intimate it came from a rapist. His rapist. As the fingers slid up the center of his body he exhaled sharply, nipple tightening under the touch, sending shivers shooting right down into the hardness swelling between his thighs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared turns the consequences into a game, but it's not like Jensen is enjoying it.

“The rules are simple, pet. Truth or Dare. I'll ask you questions and you'll tell the truth or lie and dare me to punish you. Not too complicated, is it?”

Jensen shook his head. Not complicated. He was an accomplished liar when it came to himself. Most foster kids were. Living in the system made them really good at lying to themselves, after that other people were so much easier.

“But that's the second part of the game. First part is Hangman. You've played before?”

Jensen struggled to find his voice as he fought to ignore the fingers pulling and twisting his hardened nipple. He licked his lips. “Only on paper.”

Jared laughed. “Yeah well, I prefer cuffs to drawing little stick-men. This part is even simpler. Hangman will consist of me asking you six questions. Six lies you've already told me. For the first four, if you lie to me again, one limb will be cuffed. If you tell the truth then one limb will not be cuffed. So you'll have control over how bound you end up. Tell the truth each time and you could get away without a single cuff on you. And as for the fifth, that will decide if I should blindfold you or not.”

Jensen swallowed, trying to read the hazel eyes. How could Jared possibly know for certain which are lies and which are not? He would have to be very careful, beyond what he was earlier, he would have to watch Jared, read him better. Dammit, his entire survival had always depended on his ability to read those who had control over his life, being what they wanted, giving as little as he could get away with so nothing could reach too deep inside. The fingers pinched his nipple and he hissed in the unwanted pleasure, squirming against the wall. Then the hand released it and slid over to the other nipple, thumb flicking casually as it flowered to life. He nodded quickly in hopes to distract himself. “You said there will be six questions.”

Jared nodded, grinning and leaned his warm body into Jensen's. The hand playing at his nipple slithered down his body until he cupped Jensen's half hard cock. Jensen gasped, head pressing into the wall. Clever fingers stroked him slowly, drawing out the reaction the bastard wanted.

Jared continued speaking as if what his hand was doing was nothing. “The sixth question is the most important. If you lie to me, and I will know if you lie, then the next part of the game will be very painful to you. You'll be deciding that my belt will be used for Truth or Dare. It will be pain every time I don't like your answer. Won't matter if you are lying to me or lying to yourself I will use the belt. Tell me the truth on the sixth question and it will not be my belt or any other instrument or device to inflict pain. Do you understand me?”

Hearing a threat in the words and a warning in the tone, hazel eyes dark and promising of something far worse than just the belt, Jensen shuddered. No, he didn't understand. If Jared knew the answers why was he bothering? Why did it matter if Jensen told him or not? Why this farce? He shook his head. “If you want to hurt me you're going to anyway. If you want to fuck me there's nothing I can do to stop you. Why don't you just take whatever it is you want?”

The hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed just right, long strokes from base to tip, pressing out drops of wetness, and it took every ounce of Jensen's self-control not to thrust up into it even if he couldn't stop the needy keening from escaping. He was so focused on that he almost missed Jared's response.

“I fully intend to. Taking your body is nothing, it's easy. I want what you won't give me. I'll take what you deny me. I want truth and you'll give it to me. And before you sleep tonight, my pet, you'll realize that you can't keep anything from me. Inside or out.” 

The hand moved faster, drawing blood from the body to fill out the erection until it throbbed hot and heavy in Jared's grasp, until Jensen couldn't control himself anymore and his hips humped forward, panting out, fists coiling and pressing back into the wall. Jared leaned in, hissing his words directly into Jensen's ear, warm breath only tantalizing the flesh more, his hand never stopping. “I own you, Jensen. You seemed to forget that. That includes everything inside, every thought, every dream, and every fantasy. That includes your secrets and self-deceptions. Do you understand now?”

He nodded quickly, feeling the tears sting the back of his eyes. He understood. God help him, but he understood and he wished he didn't.

Jared dipped his head down, nibbling at the skin of Jensen's neck. Jensen mewled softly, tilting his head to open his throat up in offering, hips twisting to meet each pull of the hand. He knew it was wrong, he knew it with every fibre of his being. Too bad his dripping cock didn't know or perhaps it just didn't care. Jared moved, nipping and tasting up the column of his neck to chew on his earlobe for a long, terribly wonderful moment.

“Where're you from, pet?”

Without thinking, he answered. “Austin.”

Jared's hand stopped, his lips stopped. It was as if his body turned to stone against his victim and Jensen's eyes snapped open, realizing what he'd done. He closed his eyes and hissed softly, “shit.”

“Get on the bed.”

Jensen swallowed hard, trying to control the hungry need in his body. Realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Of course Jared knew where he was from. Estelle. That fucking cunt-whore-he-wished-would-die-a-thousand-deaths-bitch who got him into this mess surely would have handed over his information; the file she had on him. So everything Estelle knew Jared would know. He pushed off the wall, eyes jumping from Jared who had stepped to the bed and the ominous chains and cuffs. A painful knot clenched in his chest making breath hard to pull in, but he did as he was told and crawled into the middle of the bed, turning to face outward. He had an edge now. He knew where Jared was getting his information. He just had to remember what he told Estelle that night he got drunk.

Jared crawled onto the bed near him and picked up the cuff for the right wrist. Jensen just watched, limb limp and helpless as he let Jared wrap the leather around and buckle the cuff. He had to turn towards the side to get comfortable with such a short chain. He pulled slightly, feeling its hold and let out a frightened slow breath.

“You wanna tell me the truth now?”

“Will it get this thing off?”

“No.” Jared smirked. “But it would please me. And we both know that you would rather please me than displease me.”

Fucking bastard. Jensen lowered his angry eyes. “Richardson.”

“Good boy.”

Jensen tensed. Those words. He wanted to growl. He wanted to scream and growl and kick the smug bastard. Instead he just pulled on his arm and felt the tug of the cuff, keeping his gaze on the bedspread beneath him. Jared stretched out his long body at the end of the bed; bending his elbow to drop his head into his hand watched his prey for a moment. That was exactly what Jensen felt like. Prey. A fly in a web's embrace just waiting for the spider the come drain it of its very essence. He could feel his spider's eyes on him, watching every move, seeing every flinch or twist, the nervous rise and fall of his chest, enjoying how the helplessness of his situation.

“Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

He swallowed hard, swallowing back visions and memories he refused to look at, eyes flickering up then down then up again only to drop back to stare unseeing at the bed. This he didn't tell Estelle, he was pretty sure. He never talks about them. Ever.

“They're dead.”

Jared chuckled darkly and pushed himself off the bed until he was sitting, holding out his hand. “You're a terrible liar, pet.”

Fuck! Shit. Motherfucker. How could he know that? He couldn't bring himself to offer his other arm. “Well they're as good as!” he snapped.

“You should have said that then instead of trying to lie to me. Now give it up.”

Jensen finally did growl, rubbing frantically at a tear of fury that threatened to well over then thrust out his arm before he made things worse. Jared was silent as he attached the other wrist cuff. With both hands cuffed Jensen had to lean against the headboard if he wanted to remain sitting, which he did. At least when sitting he could keep his legs together and to the side to hide his shame. He turned his head away, glaring at the wall. The sense of helplessness only worsened.

“How long were you in foster care?”

Okay, easy one. He remembered what he told Estelle. Fucking skanky bitch! “Till I aged out a few months ago.”

“Jensen. Don't try and play me. For that I will punish you.”

He blinked rapidly, chasing away the dark images threatening to drown him. “I don't talk about this.”

“I don't care.”

“Fuck. Why? Why do you want to know? Why do you care?”

Jared didn't answer, not verbally. Instead he dropped his hands to his belt, eyes never leaving his prey as he unbuckled it and slid it from the loops. He folded it in half and held it loosely over his lap. The message was loud and clear. Jensen banged his head against the wall twice and closed his eyes. “I went in when I was seven when my dad was arrested. My mother didn't want me. Okay? You fucking happy now?”

Jared reached back for the right ankle cuff sitting on the bed, eyes glancing back to Jensen. Jensen breath hitched, legs pulling closer to his body and fought desperately not to let the fear release the threatening tears. But then Jared tossed it off the bed and it landed in a quiet thud onto the thick carpet. Jensen exhaled.

“Good boy.”

“Fuck you, okay.” he said in barely a whisper, sniffing back the emotions. Jared laughed softly. “One more to decide if you are gonna be bound more for me. You ready?”

“No.”

Jared laughed again and dropped the belt to the bed beside Jensen. Jensen tore his eyes away from it and looked up. He got the message. His attitude was being tolerated but wouldn't be for long. He licked his lips slowly and swallowed, wetting what was desperately dry. Then he waited. Nothing else he could do but see what other crap the bastard would force from him. He didn't wait for long.

“Who beat you?”

Jensen blinked. “I already told you.”

“Half answers are considered a lie and you and I both know he wasn't the only one.”

“Fuck.” he hissed under his breath, turning his gaze away again. He shook his head, not to deny but in hopes of escaping. His words came out soft, barely a whisper. “Lot of people.”

“Start with the first.” Jared smirked. “Finish with me.”

Jensen shrugged, feeling the pull of the cuffs as he did. “Don't know who the first was. Maybe my mom, coulda been my dad. Neither really hesitated. Got slapped around a bunch in the homes I was stuck in. People liked the money, not the responsibility. Had a few nice places I stayed at, but they never lasted long. Was okay, though, cause it meant the bad ones didn't last long either.”

“What'd you do about it?”

“Nothing. The social workers didn't care. If I opened my mouth they either ignored me or told me it was my own damn fault for being a pain in the ass. If they pulled me out of a place there was no guarantee the next place wouldn't be worse. Better to get beat on than raped, right? Oh wait, you wouldn't care about that.”

The large hand slapped into his thigh so hard he cried out. His own hands instinctively reaching to protect, but were stopped abruptly by the cuffs. He dropped his head to the wall, fighting the throbbing heated sting as the pink palm print burned into his thigh. When he finally looked back Jared was stretched out again, the smirk on his lips and dazzling twinkle of his dark hazel eyes did nothing to hide his enjoyment. Jensen licked his lips to keep his words inside, unsure if he would have bitched or apologized.

“Is that all the people who beat on you?”

He looked long and hard, trying to decide how to answer, if he should answer truthfully, only to realize his hesitation was answer enough. Okay, half answers were a lie but that didn't mean he needed to give details. “No. Sometimes it was the older or bigger kids. I joined a drama club once and got a beating for that. Learned fast to keep my head down and be invisible. Last beating I got before you was a week before my birthday. Two of the boys in the group home said it was my present for ageing out.”

“You didn't fight back?”

“To what end? I fight it gets worse. Instead of two guys there's four or six. Bruises became broken bones and concussions. Or worse. They did have ways of making it worse. I was a loner, only ever had a few friends in my life. Besides, I could take a punch. Learned young how to protect the important parts.”

“So you let them beat on you.”

“I fully doubt it's something you can ever understand. Yeah, I let them beat on me. A couple of times I didn't. A couple of times I fought back and kept out of reach. You know what they do when they can't play as they want? They go after the younger ones, the little ones, the weakest ones and beat on them for a while, making sure they know why they are getting it. So I ended up with some seven or eight year old kid coming up to me crying and bloody. That was my fucking fault. If I'd just taken my due then that kid wouldn't have had to go through that. It was the same with the foster parents. If they were in a pissy mood and needed someone to wail on it was better me than some five year old.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ. You're fucking kidding me. You had an out and you didn't take it? Who the fuck cared if someone else got it?”

“I cared. Just because no one gave a shit about me didn't mean I had to turn into one of them.”

Jared reached out for the fourth cuff, the one for the left ankle and tossed it aside. Slipping a hand into the side pocket of the leather bag Jared pulled out a black leather blindfold. Jensen's eyes widened, squirming further back against the wall, head shaking slightly from side to side at just the thought of it. He couldn't do it. He couldn't handle that. He couldn't handle not being able to see what was coming, to have the split second to prepare himself. His eyes cut back to Jared and his cruel smirk, a knowing grin, like a man who had a secret. It was a promise and desire, a threat and reminder of how little control Jensen really had. But it was not until the next question was asked before Jensen understood what that damn twinkle in the eyes meant.

“Who's waiting to hear from you, Jensen? Who's gonna miss you while you are here?”

Jensen closed his eyes and nearly burst out crying. Any hope he might have clung to vanished in a heartbeat. He'd just answered, told Jared what he needed to know. No parents, no friends, no foster brothers and sisters to watch over him. He was alone. Just as he'd always been. It took everything within him to find his voice, even if it only came out a murmur. “No one.”

He couldn't stop it, couldn't brush it away the single tear welling up, catching for a second or two in his eyelashes before dropping to his cheek and trickle down the side of his face. He didn't even both moving, didn't open his eyes. From the side of the bed he heard the softest thud of the blindfold being tossed onto a night table. He sucked in a breath, wishing this horrible game would end and knowing it had really yet to begin. Jared was getting everything he wanted and he was doing it without whips or floggers. He was doing it with words. With admissions. With memories drawn out. He almost wished Jared would just gag him and beat him instead. Almost. One good thing. Thinking of his parents and bleeding five year olds, of his past and that aching hole he'd carried around for far too long, had softened his cock.

“Lie down on the bed.”

Jensen's heartbeat quickened. “Haven't you gotten what you wanted?”

“No. Still one more question before this game ends. Need to decide what your Dares will cost you.”

He rolled his head, forgetting the cuffs as he reached to wipe the wetness from his face only to have them stopped again. He blinked open his eyes and froze. Jared was holding the belt in his hands again. Stealing a quick glance up he saw the darkness twirling in the cold eyes, anger growing from being ignored, Jensen shifted quickly, sliding his body down the bed until he was lying down on his back, head on the thick pillow, arms stretched out above him.

He swallowed hard, body shivering slightly as Jared spread his thighs and shifted to kneel between them. Jensen felt exposed and vulnerable, unable to protect himself. The quivering in his body only intensified as Jared raised his hand holding the belt over his body, letting the end trail across his belly. Each gentle sweep of the leather tongue across sensitive flesh drew out flinches and frightened gasps, clenching and unclenching his flat belly. He licked his lips, again and again, able to do anything but wait as Jared drew out the suspense.

“Now this is the important one, pet. This is the answer that'll decide if I'll use my belt for every lie, half-truth or self-deception. Tell me the truth and punishment will not be physical pain. Are you ready?”

No, he was not ready; he would never be ready, but with dread threatening to choke the life out of him Jensen jerkily nodded.

The leather danced, swaying, picking up speed as it tapped again and again. The licks were sometimes a little heavier, sometimes a little lighter, never painful, always promising more, until the outer layer of skin was so sensitized even the lightest feather touch sent shivers through Jensen. When the final question of Hangman was asked Jensen didn't know if he wanted to cry out in relief or sob in panic.

“What made you decide to become an actor?”

Jensen swallowed hard, wet eyes blinking, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. His mind raced. A question with no answer, no right one at least. He started vague, trying to find his words. “A lot of reasons, I guess.”

The swipe of the leather tongue across his belly was sharper, a tingling warm sting, and he flinched. “I don't know. I just always have. My dad really was an actor, just not a very good one. Made more money selling dope to the other actors than he could ever make on stage.”

The belt swiped again, leaving another sting in its wake and he twisted, hands wrapping around the chains holding the cuffs still. He spoke quickly, taking less time to think of the response. “I saw the way other people treated them, the actors, like they mattered, like they had something important to say even if someone else wrote the words for them.”

Jared twisted his wrist and brought the end down across Jensen's chest, a medium blow to drive sharp pain into his nipple. In both fear and pain he jerked his hands on the cuffs and he whimpered. “Jared, please! Fuck! I don't know, okay. I just did. Maybe it's the money, never have to beg to eat scraps again, and not have to rely on other people. The independence.”

The leather snapped harder across his other nipple and Jensen's body arched up under it, letting out a cry, knowing without being told Jared didn't buy that answer. Tears welled up, blurring his vision. He sobbed in fear. He didn't know the answer Jared wanted, how could he give what he didn't know. “Please, Jared. Please. Tell me what you want me to say.”

The belt swiped nonstop, snipping at flesh, tenderizing it. “Fame. I want everyone to know who I am.”

The belt snapped in again, sharper and harder laying a line of fire across his left pectoral, the nipple throbbing, sending his body to thrash out under Jared's watchful eyes. “Please!” he cried out. “Please! I don't know. They're seen. Fuck. I just wanted someone to see me!”

Jared dropped forward in a flash and his mouth latched onto the burning nipple. Jensen cried out, bucking underneath as Jared sucked hard. Jensen didn't know what it meant, if the change meant he’d done well or not, if Jensen had found the right answer. All he knew was the mouth stole away the sting then teeth bit into the flesh and he cried out again. “Jared. Sir. Please. Please tell me what you want me to say.”

Jared bit in, dragging the skin as far from the body as he could and Jensen whined hard through it. Only when it had finally popped free did Jared speak. “Say it again, pet. Tell me why.”

Again? Again! That meant he said something right. But what did he say? He wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to find an answer to listen to what had babbled from his lips. He cried out as Jared's teeth bit into again, stretching out the skin and he arched up, trying to follow as far as he could and just began babbling, praying he could repeat the right answer. 

“People listened to them. People talked to them. I don't know. God! Please stop!” He gasped hard, fighting for breath. “They mattered and all they ever had to do was repeat other people's words and stand around looking pretty. They mattered. They weren't invisible. They weren't garbage.”

Jensen cried out as Jared bit in hard, driving Jensen's head into the pillow as his body arched up into the abuse and abuser. Jared’s body grinding down into his, pressing him back to the bed and Jensen whimpered, pulling and twisting on the cuffs. He felt Jared's teeth eased off until it was just lips sucking at the nipple, warm wet tongue twirling around it and flicking, lapping away the worst of the pain. Tears trickled down the sides of Jensen's face, pooling in the shell of his ears. He lay gasping as Jared's hand caressed his side soothingly, mouth rolling as he fed from the flesh. Then with one finally long lick across the nipple with the flat of his tongue Jared finally looked up, eyes dark and glistening, but not from anger. He reached down, finding the belt he'd dropped and held it up. For a moment panic fluttered through the younger body, eyes flickering back and forth between tormentor and the belt, belt and tormentor. The moment drawn out, Jensen unsure if he'd answered right, barely remembering the words spewed out and the longer Jared drew it out the deeper Jensen's panic rippled and ruled sending his body squirming beneath Jared. Then finally the dark cruel grin spread across the handsome face. “Guess I won't need this after all.”

Jensen dropped back, eyes closing, as he breathes out a sigh of relief. It was over. Fuck. Thank God it was over.

“Well, that was Hangman. Now it's time to play Truth or Dare.”

Jensen's eyes snapped open, a visible shudder shooting through him. What more could Jared possibly want?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth or Dare never felt so dangerous

There it was again. That momentary flash of hope in wide green eyes as Jared tossed the belt, only to have dread replace it seconds later. It was absolutely priceless. Jensen was priceless. Jared rolled his hips slowly, grinding his growing erection leisurely, thrilling at the warm body bound beneath him. Jensen was fucking gorgeous at that moment, exactly as he was; innocent and timid, obedient and exposed, so fucking vulnerable inside and out, deeper than Jared had ever felt from another creature in his life. He'd never really taken time with these kinds of emotional games before – why bother when after a week or two he'd just throw whomever aside or pass them off to someone else – so to feel Jensen start to give up his dark secrets was intoxicating, to say the least. Emotional weapons, far more dangerous than any belt or whip, were being laid at his feet and the boy had absolutely no idea what he was surrendering. Jared leaned in to feed from the mouth, tongue driving to fuck deeply, claiming and dominating, taking without remorse until he left the boy desperate for breath and mercy. Pressing both hands onto the pillow on either side of Jensen's head Jared pushed up, stretching out his arms completely and grinning into that frightened young face. 

“Do you remember the rules to the next game, pet?”

He couldn't help but shiver when Jensen shook his head, throat bobbing nervously. Jensen really wasn't a bad a liar, his tells earlier had been extremely subtle, signs of experience, and no doubt he'd fooled plenty of foster parents, social workers and teachers, but those people weren't anywhere near Jared's calibre and he'd bet dollars to donuts none of their lives ever depended on reading a lie. This put Jensen at quite a disadvantage. If the kid only had an idea of how many subtle tells he had then he might have a fighting chance. As it was he knew nothing and revealed everything which only made his defeat all the more inevitable. 

“Yes, you do.” He nipped harshly at the earlobe, lingering a moment in Jensen's yelp. “But perhaps it's that you don't understand the rules. Hmm?” he suckled the sting away. “Tell me what confuses you?”

“You already asked your questions and got your answers. We already played this game.”

“No. That was an opportunity for you to correct some mistakes. Like lying. You can't lie to me. You're a terrible liar, my innocent angel, and I'll catch you ever time. I've proven that. Same as I've proven, again, that you can't deny me anything I want.”

“Wh-what is it you want?”

“Everything you deny me.” 

A flash of anger heated those green eyes, but the boy trampled it down quickly enough. He swallowed again and finally broke his gaze away. “You want to fuck me then why don't you just do it?”

Jared laughed at the invitation, that wonderful sizzling pleasure coiling through his body and twitching his cock against Jensen's thigh. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“You know I don't.”

Jared laughed, shifting, feeling his own hardness swelling him with every grind of his hips. Oh, this boy really had no idea. He responded too well to every bit of stimuli, whether it be a gentle caress, a supportive touch or a cruel infliction of pain. 

“Right. Because you aren't gay.” Condescension just dripped from his tone.

Jensen jerked hard on the cuffs holding his wrists in place and growled out. “Even if I was I wouldn't want you.”

Jared dropped down, growling into his boy's ear, words as cold as the winter's wind whispering darkly. “You might want to watch your mouth, whore.”

He got what he wanted; Jensen shuddering deeper into the pillow, shoulders crunching up, that delightful tension Jared loved watching so much trembling through his young body. Jared could play with him all night. In fact, that was kind of the plan.

“Now, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for the next game?”

Jensen's eyes peered back up cautiously, peeking through his eyelashes and if that wasn't an invitation to inflict sin and suffering on him then nothing ever was. “You won't use the belt?”

“Nope. Just like I promised. No implements designed for punishment. But that doesn't mean I won't encourage your honesty.”

Jensen licked those plump pink lips again. “What do you want to know?”

Jared laughed. “Let's start easy.”

Dipping his head down Jared's tongue flicked at Jensen's right nipple, the one he had chewed on and slapped at moments ago, knowing how sensitive the little nub of flesh must be. First back and forth then slow circles around it until he'd wet it all again and could feel it hard and tight under his tongue. Jared lifted his head to find those green eyes. “Does that feel good?”

Jensen blinked his eyes away, green orbs flickering left and right until they finally settled somewhere behind Jared. He hesitated a second or two more, but then finally nodded. Jared nipped the nipple harshly, and was rewarded with a sharp hiss out of Jensen.

“I asked you a question.” said Jared softly. “I expect you to answer. Or would you rather a reminder of how a slave should answer?”

Jensen inhaled sharply, gathering courage no doubt. “Yes. It feels good.”

“Better.” Slanting his head down again Jared used his tongue to tease the pleasure into the body then slide over, kissing gently across the pale freckled chest until he found the other nipple. He lavished attention, warm breath and soft nips. He waited until Jensen started moving beneath him, those minute little movements that defied every effort to stay still. “Do you like that?”

“It...It feels good.”

“I know it feels good.” Jared chuckled, mouthing just a little underneath the nipple. He dragged his tongue slowly back and forth between the two buds. “But I asked if you liked it.”

Jensen swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

Shifting his body tight against Jensen's side Jared let himself explore a path up, nibbling over the left clavicle, into the hollow of the boy's throat, feeling the flutter of pulse, seeking out familiar sensitive spots and exploring new ones. He already knew Jensen's shoulders reacted well to touches and kisses and his neck all but sizzled under tiny nips and sucking. So Jared took his time, tasting each inch of flesh, enjoying the saltiness of his skin, learning it's silky texture and flushed heat; listening, feeling and anticipating every inevitable and involuntary reaction. He traced the wet line of his tongue to flick at Jensen's earlobe and chewed it softly a moment before whispering, “Do you like when I do that?”

A quiet gasp released, the angel eyes opened to stared at the ceiling, licking his lips again, taking a moment to choose his words, swallowing back a rejected response or two before he spoke as quietly as his tormentor. “It...It feels good.”

Jared nipped harder at the lobe, the boy drawing an instant gasp through those innocent pink lips and Jared couldn't help but notice the way the smaller body squirmed beneath him. A reaction he most certainly would explore before too long. He nipped again, dragging the soft flesh between his white teeth, stretching it out then releasing it to spring back. “Learn to answer the questions I ask.” he warned softly, “Or I will be forced to make you.”

Shifting his feet on the bed, pressing the heels into its softness for support, sent him squirming under Jared and Jared would bet anything the boy had no idea what he looked like doing that.

“I...uh... It feels good but it's not you. It's... I don't know... It's...”

Jared caught Jensen's jaw between thumb and forefinger, forcing the boy's head up. He stared deep into the green eyes and asked, “Whose hands are on you?”

Without waiting for more than Jensen’s sudden flinching, Jared's palm, so large against such a delicate throat, wrapped loosely, stretching it out just a little bit more, then he pressed his fingers into the bone of the jaw. “Whose?”

“Yours.” Jensen answered quickly.

Jared dipped down to nibble gently at the corner of the dimpled chin, his dark hazel eyes never wavering. “Whose mouth is on you?”

Jensen whispered even quieter. “Yours.”

“So I'll ask again; do you like when I do that?”

Jensen swallowed hard against the warmth of his palm, a sensation that shot right through Jared and Jared had to force himself not to move, not to respond to such a blatant invitation until he had his answer. As the moment stretched Jared squeezed just a bit more, fingertips whitening the dimpled skin, and hissed more forcefully. “Do you like when I do that?”

“Yes.” burst out on a broken breath, instantly followed by warmth heating up Jensen's neck until it flushed pink into his cheeks.

Jared eased his grip and brushed his thumb over the blushing cheek, playing in the boy's embarrassment, trailing down, finger nails scratching so lightly over his chin and down his neck. Jensen's eyes closed as the caresses scratched back and forth slowly between his collarbones. It didn't take long, nowhere near as long as Jared had expected, for Jensen to sink easier back into the bed, lips parting in calmer breaths. But as frightened as he might have been a moment ago or as calm as he was sounding it did nothing to stifle the thickening of flesh between the boy’s thighs. He could hide that reaction as well as he could hide his fear.

“You like my hands on you.” Jared kept his words as quiet as his touch was gentle.

“No.”

He dragged his nails over the boy's shoulder, then up around his sensitive neck and around his ear, watching as goose bumps tickled across the skin. Jensen tilted his head to the side, exposing himself more to Jared. “This is where the game gets interesting.” Jared couldn't help but smile. “Are you lying to me or yourself?”

The words seemed to reach through whatever pleasure Jensen was feeling and the boy stiffened, clenching his jaw as he straightened his head back. Green eyes glared at the ceiling. Jared chuckled softly. 

“So that lie wasn't for me.”

“You enjoy hurting me.” It was a declaration and a truth, a reminder Jensen seemed to need much more than Jared. Adding pressure he scratched back down Jensen's chest, drawing a small pained hiss from his prey. “Yes, I do.”

Jensen shuffled against the bed, wrists twisting within the cuffs. Jared eased the scratches, returning to gentle caresses, soothing over the light white marks he'd left behind and said, “Yet, you still enjoy when I touch you.”

Jensen shook his head, again then again, squeezing his eyes closed tightly. Jared slithered his fingers lower, tips waving the ridges of each rib, dragging a single finger back up the centre of his chest, then down again, wrapping the circular contours of his chest. He watched the flutter of pulse at Jensen's throat, the lifting of his chest with each deepening, ragged breath that seemed to reach out for every touch. Twisting his hand so his fingers splayed downwards he glided lower, keeping the contact light until fingers sunk into the sparse forest of dark curls. Making a point of avoiding the hardening cock so close to his fingers, he gaze flickered between Jensen's closed eyes to his exposed thighs, lingering in all the treasures between them. Jared had to bite his bottom lip to contain the satisfied smirk as Jensen's hips shifted up towards him. 

“You like my hands on you. You like my touch.”

Jensen's head moved side to side several times before he spoke. “No.”

Jensen spoke with less conviction, but still too much. Jared coiled his hand up, scrapped his nails through the pubic hair again, listening to the exhale of breath beneath him. Jensen's hips jerked again. Jared did it again, then again, increasing the pressure each time. Watching as the boy squirmed beneath him.

“Tell me and I'll touch you.”

Jensen turned his head to the side, away, hiding, maybe from Jared, maybe from himself. “But... I don't want you to.”

Jared slowly licked the grin off his lips then dipped down to Jensen's exposed neck to take his pleasures; no longer the taunting gentleness, but instead the eagerness of a lover. He fed off flesh, suckling nips of skin between teeth and lips, almost belatedly remembering not to mark flesh before a shoot; remembering Jeff's rules just in time. Jensen body rocked beneath him and Jared heard the first unrestrained moan, the sound shooting straight to his own cock. Jared's fingers dabbled and played. Gliding, caressing, and scratching towards Jensen's hip, teasing sensation into more untouched skin. Jensen's hips shifted towards the touch, stifling a second moan. 

Jared paused to catch a breath and steal a glance downward, noting how hard Jensen was, though nowhere near desperate. Jared wanted more, expected more. Thoughts and ideas bloomed within his depraved mind, a smirk spread across his wide lips. Sliding his hand up, palm engulfing, warming and igniting sensation up Jensen’s belly and chest, he murmured into the ear he'd just been indulging in. “You will give me everything I want.”

Jensen's lips parted wide and wet, gasping little twitches as if trying to speak but no words came. He just shook his head stubbornly. Jared chuckled softly, something dark and knowing in its sound as a finger and thumb found the hardened bud of the right nipple. He pinched – hard – and watched his angel closely. To his absolute glee he saw exactly what he'd hoped for, expected. Long, wet lashes fluttered closed, then snapped open wide, chest thrusting, arching off the bed, the sharp thrust of hips into the air, but it was the strangled, desperate curse of, “oh Christ!” that brought the smile to his face.

Jared purred into his ear. “There's my little whore.”

Jensen whined out the most broken moan. “No. Not like that.”

Ignoring, or perhaps encouraged by the boy's sounds, Jared wrapped his lips around the left nipple while he continued to pinch and twist at the other. He twirled his tongue, wetting the nub to full hardness before taking it between his teeth, biting and scraping, stretching it out. Jensen arched off the bed to ease the pull, grunting out a moan. Jared released it, letting the boy drop back. Then he chewed and nibbled, pausing to lick away the stings only to bite again, then again. Jensen's whines seeped out of him, uncontrolled and unconstrained, body shifting and jerking, no longer able or even trying to subdue himself, hips bucked into the emptiness of air. Sliding a hand down, Jared's nails scratched harder than they had before across the pubic bone, tangling in the coarse hair, each drag sending Jensen's hips bucking. But Jared didn't stop, he wouldn't stop, not until he got what he wanted, everything he wanted. As his fingers stretched out again to scratch he let himself touch the hardened cock, just the faintest graze, feeling it, hot and flushed, bounce against him. And that was all it took

Jensen whimpered, sound bursting out of him. “Please...”

Lifting his head up, his own lips wet and glistening, hazel eyes dilated as dark as those of his green-eyed angel. “What do you want?”

“Just do it.”

Jared's hips rolled, grinding his own hardness into Jensen's hip, fingers hovering over Jensen's full erection, but he wouldn't touch, he wouldn't offer anything but promises and hope, both withheld for a high price that even Jensen knew he was doomed to pay. “Do what?”

The boy's head snapped back against the pillows and every bit of his losing struggle fought across his face, his need and stubbornness in an epic battle, frustration shuddering through the body. Tears glistened in his eyes when he spoke. “Touch me.”

Rolling softly against the body, grinding his hips in, needing to feed his own hungers that threatened to overwhelm him, hungers that pushed him to take before the boy was ready to surrender. He let his fingertips touch, much as he had other parts of the body moments before, warm tantalizing touches that promised everything yet gave nothing, drawing out the need more and more. 

Jensen's hips thrust up, seeking friction Jared still would not give. “Dammit, Jared! Do it”

“Why do you want me to touch you?”

“Goddamn it!” The smaller body jerked and twisted in frustration, pulling violently on the cuffs as if he could find freedom, find salvation. Jared dipped his thumb into the first pearls of dripping seminal fluid, decorating and painting them so lightly over the bobbing mushroom head. “Tell me or I'll leave you like this.”

“No! Don't!” Jensen's struggle with the cuffs stopped as suddenly as it had started. His chin quivered as he licked his lips, little pants of air bursting with each breath. And in his eyes, those beautifully expressive eyes and that always open and unreserved gorgeous face, Jared watched the battle end. He watched Jensen crumble, finally seeing what Jared had always seen, realizing what always was, that there had been no real battle, there had been no chance, no choice, no other options, no other will than Jared's will. 

“Want you to touch me.” Jensen sounded wrecked.

Wrapping his hand loosely around Jensen's cock, Jared leaned in, whispering gently. “You like my hands on you?”

“Yes.” whispered the boy, resigned to the fate his confession would bring, thrusting his hips up into Jared's large warm palm and Jared rewarded him by tightening his grip, letting his boy ride the pleasure for a moment. Flowing juices soon coated both cock and palm, slicking the passage. Thumbing the head he leaned in to nibble again at Jensen's throat, before whispering. “You like my mouth on you.”

Jensen's eyes had closed, his lips rounding in sounds of pleasure, his body falling into a rhythm against Jared, chasing the climax that couldn't be very far away. “Yes.” he moaned.

“Tell me. Say it.” Jared tightened his grip on the cock, feeling it pulsing so hot in his grasp, pulling stroke after stroke. Jensen's head ground into the pillow as his heels dug harder into the bed, thrusting his hips up higher. “Like it. Like your hands. Fuck! Like your mouth on me, licking, kissing. Like you touching me. Please!”

“Too late, pet.” Jared chuckled mischievously into his ear and pulled his hand away.

“What? Wait!” Jensen cried out, crashing back into the pillow, desolate, abandoned on the bed as Jared rolled off. The boy blinked, confused, then angry. “Jesus Christ, why? I said what you wanted.”

Jared laughed. “Come now, you didn't really think it would be that easy?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen should have taken the dare.

Jensen yanked and jerked on the cuffs, frustration ruling his actions far more than logic and Jared couldn't be more pleased. He reached into the bag he'd left beside the bed, fumbling through the side pocket and palmed a couple of things. One item he dropped on the bed beside the pillow where Jensen could not see. The other, though, he held out in front of the boy, grinning as he waved it a bit.

At the sight of the new torment any lingering fury vanished in an instant only to be replaced with dread. “Oh shit. Jared, no. Please no.”

Jared crawled back onto the bed and slithered over Jensen, letting his own clothed body graze over the nakedness beneath him. Jensen groaned rocking his hard cock into the crease of Jared's leather covered hip. Jared had to admire the kids gall, throwing caution to the wind and all, in hopes of rubbing one out.

“Stop moving.”

Jensen stopped and had the good manners to look embarrassed. Jared smiled. “Good boy. Now, I think you forget we're playing a game. A game with rules you've broken. Tell me what the rules are, pet.”

Jensen's pink tongue flicked across his bitten swollen bottom lip and peered up shyly through his lashes. Grinding his hips up into Jared, he whispered, “Jared... Please.”

He looked coy and demure, flushed with need and for the first time Jared realized Jensen was doing it intentionally. This was no accidental submission, no lost little boy reaction, it was a ploy. Obvious, but still a ploy. With no patience for either Jensen's games or disobedience Jared grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his head back sharply. Coldness chilled his voice. “What are the rules?”

Jensen's game face faltered into a wince and answered quickly. “Tell you the truth or dare you to punish me.” 

“Stop fucking rocking.” 

With a whimper Jensen stilled again, swallowing nervously. “I'm sorry. I don't understand. I said what you wanted. I told you the truth.”

“Yeah, you did, but not until after you got caught in your own lie.” He dragged the slip of leather in his hand against Jensen's cheek. “Not a good boy.”

Jensen just sunk deeper into the mattress, expelling a resigned sigh. “You're right. You're right, and I'm sorry. But in my own defence I don't know what I like. Okay? I should hate everything you do, in fact I do. I don't want you touching me; I don't want you near me, but...” He turned his head away, the flame of his own admission burning that delightful humiliation back through his freckled cheeks. “But, you do things, and...”

“And you like them.” Jared finished for him. He pushed the boy's thighs apart, feeling the clenching of muscles as Jensen struggled with allowing it, but in the end he did nothing to stop Jared from settling in to kneel between his legs. As a reward Jared leaned forward, rolling his clothed erection over Jensen's naked one slowly, constantly watching the boy's reaction. Jensen licked his lips nervously, peering up for a moment as the two stayed quiet, rocking against each other, little pants and gasps filling the air. Jared arched a brow, making it clear he expected a response.

The tormented little angel released a defeated sigh and nodded.

Catching his chin Jared forced him to look up. “Say it.”

Jensen licked his lips. “You make me like it.”

Jared's grin spread bright and wide and not very kindly as he reached between them wrapping his large hand around Jensen's erection. It was full and warm in his hand, throbbing out small beads of pleasure. He tightened his grip a bit, giving it one full pull. “I make you like it?”

“Do you think if I had a choice, any choice, I would give you this?”

Jared dropped his other hand, cupping Jensen's balls, rolling them in strong fingers. “No, I don't think you would. I think it's killing you inside knowing I can see how hard you are for me. And it is for me, isn't it pet?”

A scowl darkened Jensen’s features in light of Jared's amusement. “I'm eighteen years old.” he growled through clenched teeth. “It's for anybody who touches my dick.”

Jared laughed. There was so much strength behind the angelic face and vulnerable eyes. Even after knowing what Jared could do to him, what Jared loved doing to him, the boy still fought. He might be bound naked on his back with his balls in the hands of a sadist, but he still wouldn't roll over completely and show his belly.

He dragged the strip of leather down Jensen's sweat glistening body. Despite that he knew what was coming Jensen writhed on the bed, held down only by Jared's weight and determination, and whined louder. “Please!”

The leather was thicker and longer than the one Jared had used the night before, long enough to wrap around both cock and balls, thick enough to stretch the sac further from the body, barring any chance of pleasure until Jared decided his new toy had played properly.

Jensen's body bucked once more, his head snapping back as his need was locked inside his body. “Bastard!”

“Yeah.” Jared laughed agreeably. “Gonna play by the rules now?”

Jensen swallowed hard at the implication, sucking in his bottom lip and chewed on it. He nodded quickly.

“Good. Then let's get to the next question. Truth or Dare pet, and believe me, you won't like the dare part this time.”

Jensen nodded again, chewing harder on that bottom lip that he endangered biting through. His face filled with dread similar to last row inmates and the shiver of pleasure that shot through Jared's cock nearly blinded him. He had to reach down to adjust himself, feeling his own cock throb hard in his pants. When he had his famous control back he dropped his hands to the sweat slicked body beneath him, running soothing caresses up and down his sides.

“Do you like when I hurt you?”

Jensen's eyes snapped wide and his mouth gaped open in shock over the question. “God, no!”

Jared arched a brow, fingers rolling the nipples casually. “You sure, pet? Think about it. I don't care if you are lying to me or yourself, a lie is a lie and will be punished.”

“No, I...” he began in earnest but then stopped, taking the potential consequences seriously. Jared just watched as memories of the last couple of days flickered through the kid's mind, what had been done to him, what he'd endured, how his body had reacted. From the wince in Jansen’s face it looked damned painful, whether due to the memories of actions inflicted or his own reactions Jared couldn't know, not yet at least, but then Jensen shook his head resolutely. “No. I don't know why my body reacted like it did, I don't. Maybe it's because of the adrenaline and fear, or maybe because it was the first time anyone ever touched me. Hell, maybe you just know some fucking warped secret-sex-mojo that gets whatever you want, I don't fucking know, but I know I do not like being hurt.”

Jared smirked off the secret-sex-mojo comment and studied the boy a moment. He had no doubt Jensen believed what he was saying, making what he was about to do all that much more interesting. Without giving him time to prepare Jared pinched the left nipple hard, twisting it as he pulled. Jensen cried out, shock or pain, probably both, and arched up, a hard shudder driving through his body as his hips snapped up into Jared's grip. Watching the boy closely Jared jerked the cock and squeezed hard. Jensen's body bucked, head snapped back, eyes all but rolling back in his head. 

Releasing both grips, he tempered his touches, the left thumb brushing back and forth over the squished nipple as it throbbed back into shape, the right idly stroking in a loosened palm. Then he waited for the boy to catch up.

Understanding crept slowly through Jensen, shame crawling close behind, burning across heated flesh under freckles. Tears glistened in the pupil enlarged green eyes. He shook his head, a weak little movement as he fought what his mind was already starting to see and whimpered under his breath, more a wish than a declaration. “No. It's not true.”

There was no way Jared could resist that invitation to sin. He leaned in, kissing his angel, feeding deep from him, licking him open and nibbling at kiss swollen lips, purring as Jensen submitted, giving everything Jared arrogated. He finally pulled back, biting Jensen's bottom lip until it plopped back swollen and wet. “Shouldn't lie, pet.”

The tears welled up, twinkling like green dulled stars until they spilled over, slithering silently down the side of his face. His chest heaved as he battled his tears, chin quivering. He already looked so debauched, near broken, and Jared grinned, reaching for the bottle of lube he'd dropped by the pillow. Jensen's gaze snapped into focus at the snick of the bottle being opened. His eyes widened, sucking in a gasp before stealing a glance at his tormentor. He licked his lips slowly, stealing away shining tears and Jared's taste before he spoke, his voice quiet, a gentle pleading. “Please don't do this. I'm still sore from...” he ducked his head, unwilling to face Jared as he spoke. “From last time.”

Jared squeezed out a generous gob, working and rolling his fingers to liberally coat them. He waited until his weapon was ready, until his fingers glistened before looking back to the boy. “Don't fight me and I'll open you properly. It's up to you, pet. This whole game has been up to you. Follow the rules, obey me, and I won't have to punish you. Agreed?”

With a hard swallow the boy nodded, eyes jumping between Jared and the wet hand held between them but it was obvious the words had done nothing to ease his anxiety. Jared let out a small sigh. With that level of tension Jensen would never be able to relax enough for what Jared wanted, no matter how hard he tried to behave and please and obey. Jared brought up his clean hand and cupped Jensen's cheek, lingering a moment as the boy curled into him. Jensen had done that before, several times actually when he'd been afraid and Jared both understood it yet was completely baffled by it. Jensen was smart enough to know mercy wasn't a given with Jared, yet he still drew comfort from him. He could understand the boy's need for comfort, just couldn't understand him seeking it from the one inflicting on him. But still, it felt...good. Jared liked that his angel rolled his cheek into his palm, releasing the tiniest little breath against his fingers. He could almost see the tension slipping away bit by bit. He waited until Jensen's eyes opened and peered up at him hesitantly. 

“I can make this good for you, Jensen.” 

Jared shifted, parting his own thighs and pressing Jensen's even wider. His hazel eyes locked with green, holding them tightly, pinning Jensen to the bed as much as the cuffs did and slipped his hand down between them. He watched the flutter of nervousness, those beautiful eyes silently begging him, pleading for a mercy Jared wouldn't know how to give, even if he'd wanted to. Wet palm found hard cock, stroking it, slowly, all the way down to the leather binding it, the stilled boy stiffening even tighter. 

“Tell me how that feels, honestly feels, and I'll let you hump me.”

Jensen looked away, squeezing his eyes shut as the heat crawled up and coloured his cheeks

Jared's hand slid down, wrapping around the bound sac, rolling it until it shined in the wetness of the lube. Jensen's struggle to be still faltered, long lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks as his body squirmed in his obvious battle not to move. Jared gave the balls a sharp squeeze. “No.”

Jensen's eyes snapped open, locking immediately with Jared's lasered focus, confusion, fear, the growing heat of lust expanding his pupils.

“Eyes on me. And I want to hear you.”

Jensen licked the nervousness from his lips and nodded shakily. Jared knew it wasn't defiance keeping the boy silent, he could see that battle fading from his eyes as the pleasure from Jared's ministrations, his gentle touches to swelling flesh, brought forth that wonderful confusion again. Jared's own eyes darkened with heat and hunger, watching his boy's struggle to remain still fade even more until his hips began light, easy rocking to match Jared's rolling of his balls.

“Like that?” 

Jensen swallowed, his throat clicking, and nodded. It took another sharp squeeze for Jensen to remember the rules. “Yes.” He replied obediently.

Jared arched a brow, rolling the swelling weight in his hand, sliding a single fingernail along just behind his balls, dragging teasingly. “Yes?”

“Yes. I do.”

Jared grinned, sliding his fingers down further, the middle finding and slowly circling the small furled hole. He watched, riveted. First instinct caused Jensen's whole body to flinch nervously, expectations of pain clear in his eyes, but with each touch, each slicked rotation of Jared's experienced finger around the tender entrance Jensen eased up. But it wasn't just endurance, Jared knew what he was doing, knew every nerve that craved touch and soon Jensen gasped out, heels pressing into the bed to push into the touches, hips shifting as Jared's finger slathered a layer of lube around and around, wetting the hole, preparing long before he finally breached the opening. 

“Fuck.” Jensen gasped, head pressing back, eyes rolling back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jared kept his movements easy, slipping his finger a little deeper each time until the tight muscle surrendered and relaxed. Only then did he squirt more lube onto his fingers and press in a second one. Jensen's body stiffened at the stretching, instinctively tightening. Jared dropped the bottle of lube to the bed and rubbed his hand up the boy's side, stroking his over his skin, ghosting his calloused fingertips up then grazing the nails back down until he felt the tightness ease off. 

“Good boy,” he purred softly.

Jensen's unfocused gaze jumped back to him, cautious and questioning, wide open with not even a hint of a protective layer, and in it was the craving, that desperate need he'd displayed during their first scene together. Every bit the vulnerable child he must have been, waiting his whole life to hear two little words. Words, Jared suspected, never spoken by the bastards taking on the unwanted children of society who feigned compassion so well. And even if they had said them to Jensen, the words would have come out empty; patronizing sounds emanating from useless people. They would never have meant them. But Jared meant them. He meant them every single time Jensen yielded, gave a little bit more of himself for Jared's pleasure. He meant it when the boy found his way in the gauntlet of emotions imposed and overcame the actions inflicted. He meant it when his angel's body knelt and his mind allowed himself to become Jared's. 

“Very good.” he reassured green eyes searching for a lie, expecting pretence and finding only truth. It was something he could give the boy who'd had everything taken from him. 

Jensen's passage was slicked well, the hole loosening more with each twist of Jared wrist. It only took another moment or two before Jensen's hips started writhing again, shifting a little more into the fingers pressing in and out of him.

“Tell me, pet.” Jared commanded quietly, pushing in a bit deeper, a bit harder, fingers spreading inside, scissoring the passage wider. “Let me hear you.”

“Yeah.” Jensen rocked up to him, sweat beading on his upper lip. “Yeah. S'good.”

“You are doing very well, playing by the rules. Would you like a reward?”

Jensen eyed him dubiously; his boy wasn't an idiot, so Jared slid his left hand down Jensen's side, curling long fingers around his hip so his thumb could play haphazardly at the strap circling Jensen's balls. It was a promise without words and therefore no promise at all. Jared smirked, dark eyes daring the boy to deny him. He watched Jensen's throat ripple, his hips twisting into the still thrusting fingers, hope filled eyes flickering down his own body to his bound cock, thick and hard, leaking juices onto his belly, and his balls, tight and full, throbbing against Jared's thumb as it made a pass. Then his dark emerald eyes peered up to find Jared's gaze and, finally, after a brief hesitation, he did what was expected, he did the only thing he could do. He nodded, remembering to speak before Jared needed to reprimand him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jared arched a brow, hand stopping with fingers all but pulled out. “Okay?”

Jensen's cheeks blushed the prettiest pink, and then his head ducked, stealing away his eyes. “I mean... Yes, please.” He peeked back up as if checking to make sure he'd done right. Jared answered with a smooth thrust and twist, sending Jensen back onto the bed, hips hitching up to catch the pleasure. Jensen's eyes fluttered closed and he cursed on a gasp.

“Eyes.” warned Jared, and he waited until Jensen obeyed before he crooked his fingers just right, rubbing the padded tip against the boy's prostate. Jensen cried out in a whole body shudder, hips thrusting high off the bed. “Oh fuck!”

Pink tongue wetting plush lips again and again, whether anxious or exited, Jared couldn't tell, so he did it again, then again. Each time Jensen's body jolted as the spasms shot through his body. His head shoved back, long column of his throat laid bare and he keened out the pleasure. “Oh God! Oh fuck.”

“You like that?”

“Y...” he nodded, swallowing back a gulp of air. “Fuck, yes.”

“What do you like? Tell me.”

And the blush returned, crawling up Jensen's chest and reddening his cheeks until even the tips of his ears glowed. He winced, as if even the thought of voicing his pleasure was physically painful.

“Want more?” Jared asked to encourage him.

The nod came quicker. “Please.”

Jared leaned lower, his own cock throbbing mercilessly, leaking and staining the inside of his pants. “Then obey me.” He tapped his fingertips against that little magic button inside his boy, little grazing promises of what could come if the boy obeyed. Jensen twisted, yanking against the cuffs, the cutest little whimper keening out the back of his throat. “Your fingers!” he gasped, grinding into Jared's hand.

“Where?” A quick brush of pleasure.

“Inside me.” he yelped quickly. “Inside... in my ass.” 

Jared stared at him, waiting; his hand barely moving.

Jensen whimpered under his gaze, face contorting in misery. The colour barely faded from his cheeks, flushed dark in sexual need and shame. “I like your fingers in me, in my ass. I like how you make me feel when you do that.”

“Good boy,” smiled Jared, wrapping his left hand around Jensen's ignored cock and twisting his fingers of his right to grind repeatedly over the little bundle of nerves inside. Jensen cried out, loud and desperate as he yanked on the chains, twisting his body to grind down or buck onto the fingers. Sweat beaded across his skin, dripping and pooling into the hollows of his hips and to the pulse point of his throat. Jared dropped forward, licking the salty sweat and dragging his tongue up along the stretched out neck. Jensen's sounds were perfection and Jared grinned against his skin. He liked Jensen like this, perhaps as much as he'd enjoyed him whimpering and afraid – which in itself was a surprise – but having Jensen sinking deeper into the pleasures, watching the pupils dilate dark and hungry, and the body writhe wantonly, seeing the boy's entire universe cave into a narrow bubble, a bubble filled with nothing but the two of them, shared body heat and lust filled need. Each touch, sound and taste, linking them tighter together, holding them in the balance of give and take. Where Jensen took everything Jared gave. In that bubble Jared was all the nourishment Jensen needed, all he craved. The boy was a sensualist, a sensation junkie, whether he knew it or not. He ached for it. Touch. Any touch. Which probably made sense considering every touch he'd had grown up was one level of pain or another.

“Say is again, angel.”

“So good,” murmured Jensen, his body writhed beneath him like a snake, twisting himself deeper onto the fingers then thrusting himself into the warm wet tunnel of Jared's palm. His head tilted back, opening his throat to the wet tongue and eager mouth and Jared didn't disappoint. He fed hungrily, losing himself in Jensen's hunger, his growing need for everything being done to him. Jeff's rules faded so far out of his mind and he sucked deep red marks across pale freckled flesh, marking his angel, his pet, his little virgin boy who humped him like a well-paid whore.

It was Jensen's breathy whimpers that broke through his lustful fog. “Please. I need…” he cried desperately, grinding himself into Jared. “Jared! Please!”

Jared stroked Jensen’s red veined cock one last time then pulled his hand away, pressing against the bed to push himself up. His hands were quick, furious against the buttons and zipper of his pants, shoving down until cool air teased at his own ass. Jensen’s eyes were wide, minute traces of trepidation, but overwhelmed with lust. Grabbing his boy’s thighs, Jared shoved them up, exposing and opening the twitching glistening pink hole. 

He coated his own cock as liberally as he had his fingers, wanting this as smooth and as easy for Jensen as possible. Jensen’s first time might have been rough, painful and cruel, but this time, this time was the first time he was willingly surrendering his body to Jared. Palming his cock, Jared lined up, dragging the head up and down the slicked up crack. He watched Jensen’s face as he pressed in, watched eyes filled with both apprehension and hunger, his flush face, cheeks a blotchy pink, no longer in shame but lust, the way the delicate yet strong hands wrapped around the chains attached to the bedframe, holding his body so very still and tense. A gasp burst out past red bitten lips, more pain than pleasure, and Jared stopped, giving his angel a moment. “Bear down, pet. And breathe.” 

Jensen swallowed hard, and nodded, his gaze never breaking away. When his breath evened out, Jared started moving again, slowly. For some reason he couldn’t even understand in his own mind, he was very aware of how tender Jensen must be from the rude intrusion the day before. With each infinitesimal wince or twitch in Jensen’s eyes Jared would cease all movement and wait for a nod from the boy beneath him. It took time, long minutes before Jared finally pressed completely inside and was rewarded well for his patience. Jensen’s head rolled back, knees hitching up, opening himself up to Jared’s cock, and hooked his heels around the back of Jared’s thighs. His eyes fluttering closed as he exhaled, moaning softly. “Oh fuck… So, full.”

“Does it hurt?” Jared asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t even be wondering, but he wanted to know, needed to know. Jensen’s eyes opened and he looked up, searching, and Jared knew what he was looking for. The boy wanted to know if it was the sadist asking, the one who enjoyed Jensen’s pain so much, but this was not about pain. He had promised Jensen he would make it good for him, wanting to show his boy the pleasures his body could feel when he submitted and surrendered. 

Whatever Jensen saw, whatever intent displayed was enough to bring out the trust. “A bit, but it…” He fumbled slightly and the shyness returned. “It feels good,” he admitted softly.

Those words released a tension in Jensen he hadn’t even been aware of and his lips twitched into a grin. He glanced down, seeing Jensen’s cock had withered a bit, though he knew it wouldn’t be that way for long. Finally allowing himself to move he pulled out slowly, more than half way, then pushed in again. Jensen exhaled again as he was filled, only this time, using his grip on the chains, pressed himself back down onto the impaling cock. It was all Jared needed to know Jensen was ready. He adjusted himself better, bracing his knees and gripping the boy as he sped up. Each thrust into the boy brought out an explosion of air, a soft moan, and occasionally, the yank of Jensen’s heels against his flanks to pull him back in. He was sweating, beads sprinkling across his forehead, slithering down his back between his shoulder blades, making his body even slicker against the one beneath him. Their two bodies worked in tandem, feeding and being fed, impaling and opening eagerly for it. And beneath him, Jensen surrendered to every thrust, to every grind and twist. Sounds escaped freely, a mixture of moans and gasps, and opened eyed wonder.

Reaching between them Jared wrapped his hand around Jensen’s cock and stroked him hard. Jensen’s body bucked up, crying out in pleasure as his legs clamped tightly around Jared. He thrust up into the tight tunnelled palm then back, driving himself harder onto the cock. He chased an orgasm that wouldn’t come, not until the leather was removed. Not until Jared allowed it.

“Please,” moaned Jensen. “Please, please. Oh God. Need. Please…”

Letting his thumb brush over the leather cock ring teasingly, Jared smirked at the boy, at his abandoned pride as desperation drove him to beg so freely. “Tell me what you want?”

“To come.” He answered without hesitation. “Please, Jared. Please let me come.”

“Want to come on my cock, pet? Want to come like a cock hungry slut with my cock up your ass?”

Jensen blinked rapidly several times. Though his gaze had never wavered it was obvious it had faded to sightlessness and blinking brought his attention back to Jared. He was panting, breathless and desperate as he absorbed the words. They were meant to be cutting and revealing, and with the shame that washed over Jensen it was obvious Jared had hit his mark. Jared thrust into him hard causing the headboard to slam against the wall. “Tell me, my depraved little angel. Tell me what you really want.”

A shattered whine burst out of Jensen. “Please, Jared. Want to come on your cock! Feels so good! Please! I need…” Jumbled words burst out of him in a ramble.

Cutting the boy off Jared wrapped his hand around the shaft of his cock and pulled; hard fast promising strokes that had Jensen writhing and yelping out at both the pleasure and denial. “You want to come on my cock, I’ll let you come on my cock, slut, but first you answer my last question. You give me the absolute truth or I’ll pull out and leave you here all night.”

Satisfaction shot through Jared at the sudden panic in Jensen’s eyes coupled with the tightening of his thighs around Jared as if that alone could save him from the consequences. 

“I will. I swear, just please...” The boy whimpered. “Please don’t stop.”

“Then tell me what makes you so needy, my pet. Tell me what makes your pretty cock so hard. Is it my hands? My mouth?” He dipped down; crashing his mouth over Jensen’s and kissed him hard. Jensen bucked under him, rising himself into the kiss, matching the hungry intention, head lifting off the pillow to chased after Jared as he pulled away. Another thrust of Jared’s hips had Jensen’s writhing back with a heated moan. Jared kept his body low, his palm wrapped around Jensen’s cock locked between their sweaty bodies. “Is it my cock?” he asked, his own need for release betrayed in the husky tones, “Like having my cock up your ass, filling you, claiming you?”

“Oh God!” moaned Jensen, hips jutting frantically. “More! Please!”

Jared grabbed a handful of Jensen’s hair, holding his head still, forcing him to not only face Jared but the truth. “Is it the cuffs, like being bound and helpless? Is it the pain? Is it the humiliation and shame for being such a cockhungry whore? Tell, me, the truth Jensen. Tell me what makes your cock so hard for me.”

A whine, desperate and needy, hips twisting and rutting up, eyes pleading. “Need, please…”

“Tell me or I’ll stop.” growls Jared, though, how he would ever make himself stop, he has no idea. “I swear to God, I will pull out and leave you hungry and panting.”

“Oh God, no please! No!”

“Then tell me what turns you on so much!”

“Your eyes!” bellowed Jensen in his panic. “The way you look at me!”

Jared’s hips stutter mid thrust, feeling a tightness clenching around his chest. He couldn’t have heard what he thought he heard. “What?”

Jensen whimpered at the sudden stop of friction and took Jared’s shocked reaction as encouragement to explain. “I don’t know. Please, I’m not lying, I’m not, but sometimes, when you look at me you make me feel….well, seen, and wanted, like I’m worth looking at. God, Jared, I don’t know. I hate you looking at me, it scares me. And I don’t get it because I know you are thinking horrible things but sometimes, when you look at me in this certain way, I know everything is going to be okay.”

Out of all possible answers, of everything that could be what has ignited pleasure and yanked coerced climaxes from the boy, that answer was not what he’d expected to hear. But in that moment, in Jensen’s desperation and openness, he’s told Jared that it was not the actions, not the sex, not even the kink, but he himself who did this to Jensen.

Strong thighs clenched him tightly, heels jamming into Jared’s flanks as Jensen writhing and rutted, trying to fuck himself on Jared’s stilled cock. “Please, Jared, please. I answered you. I didn’t lie, I swear, I didn’t lie!”

Jared swallowed hard, shaking himself back into the moment and thrust in deeply, driving Jensen’s entire body higher on the bed. The howl of pleasure and uncontained lust that burst from Jensen was perhaps the most perfect sound Jared had ever heard. He couldn’t hold off any longer, not with Jensen moving under him like that, not with those delicious moans and whimpers. He flicked the catch on the cock-ring, letting it fall away, and pumped the boy’s cock.

“Come for me, my angel. Come now!”

It was all Jensen needed, whether the release alone or Jared’s words, he had no idea. The boy exploded beneath him. Jensen threw his head back, throat stretching and howled out his pleasure, his body arching hard, thighs vicing around Jared’s thrusting body. And that hole, that tight, near virgin hole of his angel squeezed like a fist, pulling Jared over the precipice. He let out his own head snap back and yelled out, spilling his seed into the boy’s bowels.

Gasping, Jared pulled out carefully and dropped down to the bed beside the sated and drained, and, from the looks of it, unconscious Jensen. Jared chuckled softly to himself, raising a hand to caress the soft sweaty freckled cheek. The young face looked so innocent in sleep, so relaxes, so…perfect. Sliding his thumb along the cheek, he feels the lingering tackiness of earlier tears, something that perhaps should not send such sizzling pleasure through Jared but it did. It has always brought him so much pleasure when he could bring others to tears like that. As he watched the boy, his own body calming, his mind came back to him, and he remembered Jensen’s answer. He snapped his hand away and stared at the limp form before him. Jensen should hate Jared, he should fear him, and even though he obviously did, he was seeing past the games and the cruelty and holding onto Jared during this ordeal. There was something so fundamentally obscene about that, so distorted, that Jared couldn’t even fathom what was going on in the kid’s head. And worse, so much worse, he couldn’t even begin to understand how it was making him feel.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen faces the next morning. Jared faces Jeff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big thanks to my new beta sylsdarkplace. Great eye and a great ear to bounce ideas back and forth. Thanks hon

Waking up alone wasn't a surprise for Jensen. In the short time he’d been there, he’d learned that Jared always left as soon as he fell asleep. Waking up sore and achy wasn't a shocker either. Habit and instinct dictated Jensen’s movements even before the fog of sleep faded. Damage assessment had been too much a part of his morning routine throughout his life for him to just jump out of bed and hope for the best. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started working down his body, evaluating to muscle response, minute shifts to check for flaring damage. His arms ached from fighting against the cuffs, but it was minor. Rolling his shoulders, stretching the muscle and skin, eased that. That could pretty much be said about his legs, too; nothing a hot shower couldn't appease. Without thinking, he stretched out, rolling his arms out above him, four limbs stretching out the last of the kinks in his body, mouth yawning wide, barely fighting as sleep tried to reclaim him. It was not until he arched his back and the rolling ache throbbed through his spine, settling into a heated slicked up reminder of the night before, Jensen finally, truly, came awake. He remembered. Holy fuck!

Jensen flew out of bed so quickly he slammed back against the wall, hands clutching between his thighs protectively; pain cascading through his body from the impact. That was just fine with him. He deserved the pain. He deserved to suffer for everything he had handed over to Jared last night. He glared at the bed and its rumbled and stained sheets, as if it was the enemy, but it wasn’t the enemy. It was the evidence. 

Tousled and indented pillows where heads had lain. Two pillows, side by side. From two heads. Jared had obvious rested on the other, maybe for a while. Did he just catch his breath, get his bearings, or did he stay awhile? Jensen’s attention jumped to the headboard where the dark leather cuffs lay tossed and forgotten; shiny silver buckles opened, stiff black leather coiled up, still chained to the corners. Obviously Jared had released him when they were done, and just left them there. Left them there to… What? Use again? Taunt Jensen?

He shuddered, rubbed a hand over his face. The scent on his own palm hit him like a slap, as faint as it was. His hands had been in cuffs the night before, he’d never touched Jared, and other than sweat, no residue should linger. No, this scent now, was him, all him. Just a moment holding his own crotch and his hands became stained with evidence of his release, of the pleasure Jared had driven from his body. He could feel it, now that his attention was no longer locked to the bed. The cakey, scratchy feeling of dried come, marking him belly to thighs, the crack of his ass slick and itchy. Jared had filled him, scorched him inside and out, and Jensen had fucking begged for it.

Had that really been him? Had he really reacted so…so wantonly? Jared had played with his body before, forced out pleasure, but, nothing like the night before. It wasn’t just about pleasure. It was desire. Need. He’d thrust up for it, latched legs and held on for the ride of his life. He’d begged for it. Not because Jared wanted him to, not to appease his kidnapper, but because he’d craved what Jared was doing.

Forcing himself to breathe again, he tried to think. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. Jared hadn’t really hurt him. Jensen paused, thinking a bit deeper on that, head wobbling as if vacillating on that conclusion, remembering hands and teeth, slaps, even the kiss of a leather belt. Okay, so that wasn’t technically true. He had hurt him. It wasn’t pain like he’d known before, though, not like when the cameras were rolling. And it wasn’t like the threat of pain and the humiliation were any less intense. It wasn’t about hurting. It was solely about control and surrender. It was about driving pleasure higher.

He went to rub his hand over his face again, wanting to rub away the images of pleasure from his mind, but stopped. He glared at the offending hand and pushed off the wall. He needed to wash Jared off him. Yeah, that would help. Wash the smells away, let the hot water beat the echoing touches from his skin, and get his head back together. He needed to find a way out of this nightmare before things got worse, and for some reason, thinking of the night before, of the way Jared had touched him, taken him, looked at him so possessively, and the way his body ached and humped every time he did, seemed a whole lot more dangerous than anything that had happened in front of the cameras.

Taking long quick steps, nearly running into the bathroom, he slammed the door behind him, turning the little lock on the painfully thin wooden door. It wouldn’t stop anyone, least of all Jared. It was the illusion of privacy, though, of safety, Jensen needed to clutch onto. He moved in rapid bursts, taps turned, shower curtain yanked closed, jabbing his hand under the water, testing it. He knew he was panicking, maybe afraid if he didn’t do this now, right the fuck now, he would never get Jared off him, out of him. And when he stepped in, the water had barely started heating. He’d lived without hot water so many times in his life his body knew what to expect. It clenched up tight, shuddering violently as it adjusted to the sudden freeze. He didn’t care, he needed this, needed clean water and strong soap.

He stood under the stream, hands wrapped around his body as it bounded down in icy knives that few long moments before the warmth flowed out, washing over him in waves of muscle loosening pleasure. This is the pleasure he’d always fantasized about; warm water, comfortable bed, decent food that filled an empty belly. Not sex. Sure, feeling safe was always on that list, but more towards the bottom. Safe was never something Jensen expected to feel. It was for other people. Nice people. Good people with a loving mother and father in a nice white house with a white picket fence and pretty flowers up the walkway. People not like him.

The pressure of the wet pounding weighed him down, and he slumped forward onto his arms, fists to elbows against steam warmed tile. Leaning his head down, letting it drop into his arms, the water massaged the back of his neck and over his shoulders. He tried not to think of Jared, and failed. He’d liked it. So much of what Jared had done to him, shown him, taught him, the night before, he’d enjoyed. Who would have ever guessed that psychopathic sadist could give such pleasure?

Jensen couldn’t remember ever feeling so desperate, even back in his earlier teens when his dick started jumping up and demanding attention. Back when a little breeze and a few inappropriate thoughts made his whole body quake with need. He’d never really looked at the girls back in school, not that he was looking at the boys, though. Jensen had always been ‘the foster kid’, passed around from home to home, sometimes going to as many three different schools in a single year. Ostracized for being different since he was seven years old, and not just for the old, hand-me-down clothes always a bit too big or a bit too small, but because of the shadow of what took away his family. He had felt the stares, seen the pity or derision from the rest of the student body for as long as he could remember. There were some who were kind, who offered to share lunch on days he had none, who would sit beside him without the teachers having to command it, who wouldn’t laugh or snicker when he’d raise his hand to answer a question, but there were never friends. There were no invitations to birthday parties, to nights to hang out with the guys. He was never part of ‘them’, so how could Jensen ever invite them into his world, even in his own mind? It would have been a violation, would make those pretty, happy, clean people filthy just being near him.

So, his thoughts when he’d been alone in the dark, or standing in the shower had been about hands and lips, the silky cleave of wet pussy, the ample swell of heaving breasts, the gentle curve of a perfect ass. It had been about soft skin arching into his, pressing sweaty flesh against hard, eager pleasure. With eyes closed as he’d palmed his cock in the shower, he’d never seen who hands slid up his chest, or whose thigh pressed up between his legs.

As virginal as he was, Jensen wasn’t innocent. He’d kissed a couple of girls over the years. Well, they kissed him. One had been an older girl at one of the homes he’d been in when he was fifteen, all too-short skirts and inch thick makeup. She’d just shoved her tongue down his throat and licked all over his face, reminding him of a German shepherd he used to feed when he was small; half-starved and desperate to prove how tough she was. The second time had been nicer. Gentle little sweeps of tongue, soft lips brushing his. He never would have done anything, just her sitting with him, seeing her wrap her long brown hair behind her ear and peer up at him with her little her coy smiles was enough for him. Then, one day while doing homework together she’d just leaned over and kissed him. He’d liked her a lot. She was quiet and shy, and she’d liked books, just like him. A week later he was moved, and never saw her again.

Boys talked in locker rooms, bragged, and he’d heard them even if they weren’t talking to him. And he’d heard his fair share through thin walls in the various homes, walked in on a few people over the years that were using storage closets or bathrooms when beds weren’t available. He’d seen, he’d touched, he’d heard, but he’d never felt that overwhelming, blow the top off your head, body spiraling away to another dimension, atoms exploding kind of eruption. Until now. Until Jared.

Jared, who threw out compliments like steel tipped arrows, called him sweetheart and used the word like a blade, shiny and sharp, slicing through his clothing, leaving him naked, laid bare, for the world to see. But when he called him angel, angel said with possessiveness and awe, with adoration and desire, it breathed sensation into Jensen. There were other times, more confusing times. Times, when Jared would stop the shoot, look at him with softer eyes, touch him with gentler hands, and speak to him with soothing tones, helping Jensen over the biggest hurdles, holding him together when he was shattering apart. Times before a new nightmare began that he offered sanctuary in numbness, promised easier paths to accepted tribulation. Times when even the director, Morgan, barked and let his agitations show, that growl of a bear driving tremors of panic through Jensen, until Jared stepped closer. In those moments, those rare, treasured moments, Jensen didn’t feel so alone. Terrified, yes, tormented, yes, but not so alone. And he hated himself for it. God, how he hated the weakness in him to need it from Jared.

Jensen punched at the pretty beige tile, the pounding of the bottom of his fist muffled between his own growls and the pattering of the shower against the tub. Pain shot through his clenched hand, and he smashed it again and again until his fist screamed and his lungs bellowed for breath. Then he closed his eyes and just tried to suck in enough air to fill what was so empty inside him.

Maybe this is what Stockholm Syndrome feels like. Maybe that was what this was all about, falling under the spell of his kidnappers. They owned the body, could do whatever they desired to him, they held the power of life or death, so of course they would be elevated, the mind would struggle to find safety, to appease. That was all that this was. Stupid Stockholm syndrome. It was no different than back at one of his first foster homes, with that crazy bitch who would lock him the closet for a day at a time if he spilled his milk, and then pat his head and rub his cheek, snuggling him into her bosom while telling him what a good boy he was. He would have done anything for her just to have her arms wrap around him again.

He exhaled, finding comfort in that thought. But as he opened his eyes, forehead leaning into his clenched fists, he saw down his wet naked body. His cock was hard. Just thinking of Jared and his cock was hard. Just thinking of his touch, his fingers, and his mouth – that mouth – caressing him far deeper than the skin, licking to his very bones, and his body craved more.

So why should it be any fucking different with Jared. Why should he think he could save himself, could gain any kind of control. He was fucked, and he knew it. He knew what Jared really wanted now, and he was truly and completely fucked. Jensen stood up suddenly, water splashing into his face, and he grabbed at the soap.

He knew what Jared wanted. That thought rolled around in his head as he rubbed the sandalwood soap over his body. Jared had gleaned secrets from Jensen, had demanded answers, and had pushed truths to the surface. But he had been interrogated enough to know that one can learn as much from the questions asked as from the answers given. He’d seen Jared’s eyes and he’d felt his body’s reaction. He knew what Jared wanted, and because he knew, it was up to him whether to give it or deny it. He was well aware of the consequences of denying Jared anything. Jared would break and take and use. Jensen couldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t going to let that happen. In fact, he was determined not to let Jared win. He had a weapon, he had foresight. He’d been through shit like this before, not to the same extent, but he had. So Jared could manipulate with his body. Big fucking deal. He was eighteen years old; the wind could manipulate his body. But he wasn’t going to lose anything else. He would hold onto whatever was left inside him as if were sacred. Jared wasn’t getting in, because he knew what Jared wanted.

 

It had become a ritual at some point. Jeff Morgan didn’t even know when it had really started. Years ago, back when Jared was scrambling for any scrap of attention Jeff would grant him, Jared had just shown up one morning with coffee for them both, sat down across the desk; taking his place one step deeper into Jeff’s domain. The company had been much smaller then. The boys, most often hustlers he’d picked off some corner, pumped with drugs or bribed with cash, and then tossed away when the movie was done to crawl back under whatever rock they called home. He’d known from the moment he’d met Jared the boy had a keen mind, smart for someone with almost no education. He’d survived on his wits, and he used that same lust for knowledge and need for power to learn every single thing Jeff would teach him. So when Jared had pushed into Jeff’s life, Jeff allowed it. He enjoyed having easier access to the kid; shove him under the desk to keep his dick warm or bend him over it when he’d been sitting too long and felt like stretching a bit.

It had evolved over the years, pretty much at the same pace as Jared’s growth spurts. Jared didn’t fit under the desk anymore and no longer brought coffee. Becky from the front desk ordered it, and if not her, whoever was manning the phones there. As immoral and sadistic as Jeff, he’d been his protégé, his student, and now, Jared was his weapon. A weapon he sat with every morning and decided how to wield. At some point donuts showed up, and then it was bagels and cream cheese. They’d tried some of those fancier coffees at one point, but eventually went back to regular Colombian; black for Jeff, three sugars for Jared. However it had started, it was important. Jeff knew the value of rituals.

Jared sat across from him in the same chair he’d claimed years back, large coffee in its cardboard cup in one hand, and his third bagel in his other. His upper lip glistened from the butter he’d not wiped off yet, and his eyes, usually locked on Jeff, or the monitors, or hell, even the papers on the desk, stared off into space just over Jeff’s shoulder. He wasn’t dressed for work, but then, no shoots had been scheduled for the morning. Jared was good, had stamina like a bull, but even he needed to recharge his batteries sometimes. Instead of leather, his long legs were wrapped in soft, well-worn loose blue jeans. His maroon shirt, deep and dark like a thick pool of drying blood, split open at the throat to display the heavy silver chain he always wore. Casual suited him well. He looked every bit the strong man he’d grown into, the second in command, the bastard who, with a wicked grin or a furious scowl could make the strongest of men wet their panties. He was, without a doubt, Jeff’s greatest creation. So very different from that alley cat Jeff scraped off the streets so many years ago.

“How’s it going with the kid?”

Jared’s eyes snapped to life, jumping first to the monitor where it displayed their newest acquisition curled up in the king-sized bed still sound asleep, then over to Jeff. With a smirk and a wave of the half-eaten bagel, Jared said, “Good. It’s going good.”  
Many might have bought that crap, but Jeff knew Jared better. He’d watched him, after all, train dozens of boys, seen him chase the light from their eyes, leaving nothing but obedient shells for them to videotape and bodies to rent out until they became worthless, used up husks. Jeff wasn’t all bad though. He never threw them away. He always found homes for those worthless boys, some wealthy client with a penchant for ownership. So what if he made a tidy profit from it?

Taking a long sip from his own cup Jeff watched over the rim. Jared’s gaze returned to the monitor, his face a mask of concentration, like he could figure out the mysteries of the universe from the way the kid had curled himself around the pillow. “You sure?"

Tossing the dregs of his breakfast onto the wax paper it came in, Jared grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth, balling it into his hand and dropping his clenched fist to his knee. “Well, he’s a masochist, just like we thought.”

Jeff nodded. It made sense. All the shit that kid’s gone through, he would associate pain with pleasure. Pain brought him attention all his life. Being a virgin and obviously touch-starved, his body would crave anything. Mix in a healthy dose of fear and shame and his fucked up psyche would twist whatever they inflicted into something he’d crave; something they could use.

Jeff had done his research. He always did on the fresh meat that came his way. He had to make sure no parents with a sudden conscience showed up to claim what was theirs, or some old friend started asking questions when the kid stopped calling. Nothing screwed up a good sale more than the past showing up demanding access to someone who’d already been broken, already been sold. He dealt in disposable lives, not complication. So, he knew what led Jensen to Estelle’s door, and he knew there was no one in the world who would notice when Jensen disappeared. The one thing Jeff didn’t do, though, was kidnapping. Every single kid who passed through his studio, no matter what vice or bad choice had brought them to it, had aided in their own destruction. This one might be a little different on how he came to them; the bad decisions and vices weren’t exactly his, but that didn’t matter. He was perfect; beautiful and completely alone in the world, well worth the profit Jeff would make to bend his own rules. From this point on, though, Jensen would be the captain of his own sinking ship. And Jared was the perfect weapon to get him steering in the right direction.

Getting Jared to attention long enough for Jeff to read his face was inevitable, but it was taking much longer than usual. Like the kid couldn’t look away from the screen, and together they watched Jensen have some sort of a freak out when he woke up, jumping out of bed and grabbing his jewels like a knife wielding maniac was in the room with him. Only when he disappeared off camera, probably hitting the shower, did Jared finally settle back again and look up long enough for Jeff to catch his gaze. The kid boldly held it. He never did have the good sense to back down, unlike so many other people who couldn’t look Jeff in the eye. That cockiness allowed Jeff to gauge his mood, though.

Jared was leaning back, long legs stretched out, resting his weight into the arm of the chair, shoulders loose, his face passive as he casually lifted at cup of coffee to his lips. He looked completely relaxed, and if not for the fist still clenching the napkin, Jeff might have believed it. When Jared raised an eyebrow in question, Jeff knew the kid was off his game. He was showing emotion, impatience. Jeff knew this tension could only be from one of a few things, something with Jensen or residual crap from their talk after the whipping. After all, Jared did snap at him, not something really advisable, but also not really that uncommon. Jared's temper was difficult to rein in on the best of days, his moods legendary in the building. It was why discipline must be maintained.

Jeff finally broke the silence. “You okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I be?”

Jeff sipped at his coffee, taking another long look, and then he shrugged. “Okay.”

He turned back to the papers on his desk, leaving Jared to watch him.   
Putting his coffee down and grabbing his pen. His entire attention appearing to be on the contracts before him, but it was a farce. He was waiting, always patient when dealing with his best creation. Jared could never handle silence for too long when the tension rippled. He didn’t even get half way through the first paragraph, jotting notes on the side, before Jared spoke up.

“You gonna give me shit for going off script again?”

Jeff looked up; a smile breaking across his face so his own dimples peeked out through a couple of days’ worth of scruff. He laughed. “Is that what was bothering you?”

Jared stared at him pointedly, not answering. Christ, the kid wasn’t hiding very much. Whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with their little tête-à-tête the day before.

He shrugged all casual like. “It was a good scene. You put him down well. I’m sure the customers are going to love watching him crack like he did.”

Jared's eyes narrowed. “Really?”

It was more of an accusation than a question, and Jeff heard it. “I had reason to be cautious, Jared. You gave me every sign you were getting attached.”

Jared's voice chilled the air. “I was doing my fucking job.”

“Were you?”

“Yes.” Jared growled, his free hand clenching the side of his chair. “You bring me these fucked up kids, and I have to walk through a minefield to get something out of them for the cameras. If I don't balance it right, the fear will turn them into fucking zombies, and you know it. And this kid is so fucking innocent. Jensen is...” he paused, searching for a word. “Unprepared.”

“So all you were doing was playing him?”

“Of course it was all I was doing!” he snapped.

“Then why're you so angry right now?”

Jared stiffened, clenching his jaw. He teetered on the cusp of an outburst. Finally, a sigh busted out of him, and he dropped back into his seat, shoulders slumping. He tossed the balled up napkin into the wastebasket.

“Fuck if I know. Just tired, I guess. Been burning the candle. Days and nights, keeping the kid off guard, playing with your little pet down in editing, and I took care of that problem with the new distributor. They’ll be coming to your party next week.”

Jeff nodded again, his eyes never leaving Jared. “Good, good. We’ll settle up then. You talk money with them?”

“Nah, just did my things. Told ‘em you’d talk it through with them when they saw you.”

“And the boys?”

“We’ll have six there. Should cover everyone’s needs.”

Talking business as normal for a moment helped Jared to relax more. Jeff let him, watched him settle into the chair more. Which meant work wasn’t bothering him, and it wasn’t their little tiff. That left only one thing. It had to be the kid upstairs. Well, shit. Tin Man had a heart. Jared wanted the twink. Was he feeling protective? Possessive? Jensen wasn’t just another body, two holes and a tongue, to train and use and eventually sell off. What was it about this fucking kid that was twisting Jared up in knots? It didn’t fucking matter. Jared didn’t need anyone other than Jeff. Not even the mute, who’d known Jared from his street days, was as important to Jared as Jeff. Jeff was the one who took that scrawny, desperate hustler and molded him, gave him a home, trained him, showed him how to take back instead of just taking whatever the world pounded into him. Jared was his. Jeff sighed internally. This could get messy. But in the long run, it would be better for Jeff, and therefore, best for Jared.

He let his lips curl up into a smile. “Good, Jared. You had me worried there for a bit.”

“Worried about what?”

“Well, you say you were playing him, and I believe you. But, I saw the way you coddled him, saw the way you stepped between him and me at the shoot, all protective like. Would have broken my heart to find out he was playing you. Was worried you might have lost it.”  
Jared went still, and Jeff smiled, cold and direct. “That kid’s pretty. I bet he’d get under just about anyone’s skin. Always saw you as stronger than that, but everyone has their weakness.”

The expected curses bellowed out as Jared jumped to his feet. “Who the fuck are you calling weak!”

No greater insult could be flung. Jared was on the edge of losing it, nostrils flaring, hands gripping into tight fists at his sides, eyes burning with the promise of pain and suffering. He’d never lose it on Jeff; the kid was smarter than that, but he was so close, Jeff could taste the flash of testosterone in the air. He dropped the pen to the desk and leaned back, waited a moment, then another. “Sit the fuck down.”

Jared’s shoulders rippled and his fists clenched tightly, lifting, as if to strike out, but instead he grabbed at the arms of the chair and yanked it forward, his large body crashing into it. He knew the consequences too well to ignore that commanding tone from Jeff.

“I have never fucking hesitate on a single goddamn thing you asked of me, Jeff. You want me to take these kids down; I do it. You want me yanking one of your desperate losers into the barn and teach them a lesson; I do it. So, where the fuck do you get off calling me a weak?”

“Relax, Jared. I’m not calling you weak. You’re my right arm. We both know that. Nothing’s changed. I know I can rely on you.” He smiled benevolently. “He’s the prettiest thing we ever had walk in here.”

That got huff of agreement from Jared.

“A boy that pretty, who blushed to well, and cries those big tears, we can make a lot of money on. We play this right, make him need us, make him depend on us, we’ll could probably get twenty or thirty movies out of him. Trick him out on the side, we could damn near retire on that kids ass, Jared.”

He watched Jared go quiet, his eyes leveling with Jeff’s and holding there. He could almost picture what Jared would be thinking. Could almost see the dollar signs rolling in his eyeballs like some old time cartoon. Jared got it. He was starting to see the true value of the boy upstairs.

Jeff smiled, and waited for Jared’s cold smile to match his then continued. “But he’s a lost boy, pretty and lost. All his life he’s been looking for a place to belong, someone to belong to. He needs a firm hand.”

Jared’s eyes had strayed back to the monitor, and he watched as Jensen came out, a towel wrapped around his hips, another wrapped around his neck to catch the dripping water from his recently washed hair.

“And I know you can play him just right, Jared. He needs someone strong, needs to feel taken care of, needs to know how limiting his options out in the world really are. He needs to learn he has nowhere to go if he leaves here.”

“Already on that.”

“And play the family angle. His was taken from him, and he’s been looking for another ever since. Keep going with the balance of tender and stern, pleasure and pain. Obedience and suffering for the camera and reward him when you are alone.”

“Sounds like he needs a Daddy.” Jared glanced back long enough to smirk. “So, why didn’t you take him? We both know how good a Daddy you are.”

The sarcasm was thick, a jab. Jeff matched his smirk, “Because, like other kids who come here, he doesn’t have Daddy issues, not after the shit he went through with his own. He just needs to belong. That's all that kid wants is a place to belong. And if you can give him that, make him belong to you, then we don’t need to bring Misha in for the kid, do we?”

“No.” Jared hissed through clenched teeth, and glared at Jeff. “We don’t.”

Jeff knew he had him. That fierce competitiveness, that desire to always be number one, to always be the best, the strongest. Jeff banked on it. To have Misha come in when Jared failed would be an insult comparable to calling him weak. Jeff had used Misha before, to keep Jared in line, to keep Jared on track. Whatever Jared’s budding feelings were for Jensen, they would become nothing compared to Jared all-consuming need to keep the other sadist out of his business.

“No. We don’t. Because you are going to break him for me. Not just bring him down. You are going to break whatever’s left inside him so he has nothing and no one but us. You are going to do it, Jared,” Jeff let the coldness enter his voice, his eyes boring into Jared, “Because if you don’t, if you fail me…” Jeff let those words hang for a moment before he continued. “I will give him to Misha, and he will destroy you’re little pet.”

Jeff glare pinned him into the chair with as much power as he’d exerted when the kid first came to him. Jared’s chest heaved at the threats, the one to him and the one to Jensen. No one more than Jared knew how Jeff handled those who failed him. Now it was a matter of survival, Jared or Jensen. Good thing his Jared was a survivor.  
Rocking back in his seat, Jeff put a smile on his face. “Now why don’t you go get the kid. It’s time he signed his contracts.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Jensen to face Jeff Morgan, the man behind the sadist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so much to sylsdarkplace for pointing out all those annoying little mistakes and helping me fill in gaps that have taken forever.

Showered clean and teeth brushed helped. He was used to piecing himself back together after beatings, and there was no better place than a shower. Often, it was the only private time a kid like Jensen ever got. And maybe it was only symbolic, but Jensen felt as if he had washed much of the shame of the night before off. He’d grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, again having to roll up the cuffs to be able to walk. Would it kill them to give him his own things to wear? He didn’t own much, only owned one nice dress shirt and one pair of black slacks he’d used when going for auditions, but he would have killed to slide into pair of his own jeans. Something familiar in this maze of terrifying. Jared’s hoodies were huge on him, obviously even a bit big for the Sasquatch, and even if they were softer and higher quality than anything Jared owned, they weren’t his. It was like wrapping himself up in Jared. Jared’s things, Jared’s scent, Jared’s presence. No escape from his tormentor.  
  
He yanked the top drawer open for a pair of socks. Hell, he’s settle for nothing but his own underwear. He wasn’t feeling very picky. As he yanked the white sports socks out, something colourful flicked at the back of the drawer. He cocked his head, and reached inside. As his hand came back carefully holding the corner of a photograph. Bringing it closer to his face, he studied it. A woman, early twenties maybe, pretty thing with long chestnut hair to her waist and a smile a mile wide. In her arms was a young boy, couldn’t be more than five or six. Obviously her son. The smiles, the hair, and most of all the dimples.  
  
Jensen gasped.  
  
Jared? Was this Jared and his mother? Jared when he was young and innocent, and looking so happy in the arms of his mother. He studied the rest of the picture, trying to glean more information, as if he could find something to explain how this beautiful, happy child turned into a sadistic psychopath. There wasn’t much. There was a field behind them, tall grass to the boy’s waist, bushes, trees. The clothes were simple, just regular kids’ clothes and a simple blue summer dress for the mother. Except for the way she looked at the boy, with such love in her eyes, like he was everything in her world, and the boy, so happy, carefree, and so full of excitement and love for her back. How the hell can anyone knowing that kind of love turn into a kidnapping rapist?  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
Jensen spun around. He’s been so wrapped up in trying to understand the mysteries in his hand he’d not heard the door open. “Um…I… uh…”  
  
Jared’s eyes dropped to the picture and he stopped. His chest heaved once, big and full and he swallowed hard. A second passed, and Jensen didn’t know what do to, or say, as Jared stared at his hand. But then Jared’s head snapped up and his eyes blazed, blazed with a fury unlike Jensen had seen from him before. Charging across the room in three steps, he grabbed the picture with his left hand and slapped his right palm viciously across Jensen face. Jensen stumbled back into the bureau under the blow, grabbing at his burning cheek, heart racing in his chest as he cowered back.  
  
“I’m sorry!” he said quickly. “I just found it, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t ruin it, I promise, I didn’t!”  
  
“You think I fucking care!” Jared barked. The way he held the picture tenderly, protectively, in his left hand, Jensen would have said ‘yes, he did think that’. Before the words could squeak out, Jared held the picture up. “You think this is important to me?”  
  
Jensen entire body trembled, pushing harder into the bureau. He watched as Jared’s eyes turned to the images in the picture, and for another second, a split second, there was something other than cruel or scary or lust warping his features. For that split second, there was something deeper, sad or loss, maybe pain; far too complex for Jensen to understand before Jared turned on him again. Pressing Jensen into the wood at his back, Jared hovered over him. The cruelty was back; his quietly hissed words a glacier of promised suffering to come.  
  
“You think this has power over me? Is that what you thought?”  
  
Jensen shook his head so hard his hair flopped into his wide, frightened eyes and whipped at his stinging face. “No, no, I just found it and...”  
  
The bellow that cut him off reverberated through the room, bouncing off walls and furniture and slamming back into his trembling body. “Do you think it has power over me?”  
  
Jensen whimpered, panic overtaking him. He’s never seen Jared this angry. He’d never seen anyone this angry, and there was some stiff competition there. “Please, Jared. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”  
  
“Did you go searching through my things hoping to find a weakness to use against me? Did you think I would look at this and turn into a fucking pussy? You think she has means anything to me anymore, Jensen? Do you think you mean anything to me?”  
  
Jensen’s eyes snapped impossibly wide. What the hell did that mean? But he was shaking his head so violently, whimpering. “No, no, I don’t.”  
  
“That’s right!” Jared snapped his last two words an inch away from the boy trembling before him. Then he stepped back, and before Jensen could utter a sound he ripped the picture in half.  
  
In too much shock to do anything but start, Jensen watched the two pieces flutter to the carpeted floor. “No one has power over me, and you’d best not forget that.” He sneered, and added, “Sweetheart.”  
  
Jensen swallowed hard. If that was how Jared treated someone he once loved dearly, what did that say for Jensen’s chances of survival in this place. His jaw quivering when he opened his mouth to whisper. “I won’t. I promise. I won’t forget it.”  
  
Jared stepped back. Then took another step away. He pulled his shoulders back, rolled them out as if shedding his outburst. He didn’t look down at the torn pieces, didn’t take his eyes off Jensen, and if Jensen didn’t know better, he would think Jared was using the fear he’s induced to regain his own control. Jensen couldn’t move. It took everything within him to even remember how to breathe, afraid that the smallest thing, a wrong word, a misjudged movement, and Jared would finish whatever violent thoughts had been racing through his head. Finally, Jared let out a breath.  
  
“Jeff wants to see you in his office. Watch your mouth in there. Make sure you show respect and don't piss him off. He's the one who decides which movies you do and what you'll endure. Piss him off and he might give you to someone else and believe me, you are better with the devil you know.” Jared’s hands twitched at his sides and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing down the long length of throat. He glanced down at a torn half, and then stepped back once more. “Finish getting dressed. I’ll be back in five minutes.”  
  
He spun on his heels, and left, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
Jensen’s breath exploded from his chest, his knees trembling so hard he tumbled, catching himself on the edge of the bureau to keep himself up. “Holy fuck.”  
  
He ran his hands over his face, shaking out of the stupor, the terror and focused on his breathing until he could push himself to stand up. His eyes glanced to the torn pieces, and then carefully, eyeing the door, he picked one up in his hand, gingerly holding the corners. Jared had ripped right through their bellies. A stab of sadness cut through his chest when he looked at the little boy now. There was nothing of him left in Jared. He was as good as dead.

  


Jensen glanced down at the papers before him again, his eyes unfocused and tried counting his heartbeats. He was trembling, though he doubted it was visual, it was something so deep inside it was very possible his soul itself shook. Could he sign them? Could he add his signature to his own damnation right beside the scrawl of his own Judas Iscariot? What would happen if he refused? Oh, he had a pretty good idea what would happen. They would find a way to make him. His hands brushed over the cool sheets of paper, flattening them out, absently noting the bluish tint at his wrists. He blinked his gaze into focus and studied them for a moment. Another shiver drove through him, but not one of fear. For a brief second or two his mind went back to the night before, to Jared's hands on him, his mouth, to Jensen's own body opening up to accept Jared's ministrations, to the feverish lust that Jared had fed, taunted, until finally he released it. And he saw, again, Jared's eyes, the shock in his face, the mesmerized soberness as he'd repeated Jensen's own illicit confession. Jensen clenched his lips together; reminding himself he had his own weapons. He swallowed back his trepidation before turning to look at Jared, peering up through his lashes, letting his nervousness show.  
  
“You expect me to just sign these?”  
  
Jared stole a glance at Morgan before looking back to Jensen. His body had tensed. Even though he was still stretched out in all relaxed glory in a chair, there was tightness to his features. The slip disappeared quickly. “That's right, pet. We do need to cover our asses from any liability, now don't we?”  
  
His words finished with a taunting smirk, a reminder that should Jensen sign he could never come back and say he was forced. Jensen nodded slightly, accepting their position, not agreeing.  
  
“You'll also be signing a paper saying you asked for payment in cash and you received it.” Morgan added. “You understand, don't you? For tax purposes. No matter what your contribution here is, I do run a legitimate business.”  
  
Jensen just stared at the older man a long moment and saw a glimmer of delight in his dark eyes, obviously enjoying Jensen's position as much as Jared. There was something more to it Jensen couldn't put his finger on. He licked his lips again, nibbling at his bottom one, giving it all some thought. Both men were sadists, this he'd already figured out and barring some incredible act of benignancy, which would have to involve saving orphans from burning buildings, that opinion wouldn't change, but their reaction to him being made to sign, the pleasure, the underscored excitement both had, just didn't make sense. Neither man had threatened him, neither had explained some dire consequence should he not do it. Neither was pushing him, in fact, their logical approach could possibly be considered detrimental to their goal. They were giving him every opportunity to refuse. In fact, they were, he realized, expecting him to refuse.  
  
He had weapons.  
  
He looked away from the damning papers and stared at a wall somewhere between the two men and spoke softly. “When I was fourteen I ran away from one of the homes they'd stuck me in. Didn't know it at the time, but I had concussion and a broken rib.” He shrugged softly. “I'd taken a few beatings in the last month I was there. I was gone for two days before I allowed myself to get caught. And yeah, I allowed it. I saw the cop and put myself in his sights. The reason I did was because I realized what I would have to do if I stayed on the streets. I was free and away from one dangerous situation, but I had put myself into another.”  
  
He stole a glance up to Jeff Morgan, not trusting himself to turn and look at Jared and continued. “I knew I needed money.”  
  
“Smart.” he said.  
  
“I started saving right then. Every chance I could, every dime I made. Some places gave me an allowance, though not many. I carried groceries for old ladies, mowed lawns, ran errands, stocked shelves for a corner store after school, whatever I could find. Bought only what I couldn't live without. Over the next four years I raised $860 dollars. Now, I know that doesn't sound like a lot of money to you.” He motioned towards the papers on the desk. “Especially when I see how highly you value a pound of flesh, but it was a lot of money to me. And it was mine.”  
  
“What's your point?”  
  
“I lost everything, Mr. Morgan. Whatever I had at the hotel, my clothes, my belongings. I have no money and I'm pretty damn sure I've already lost my job at the restaurant. And I won't even have an agent when I leave here. I don't have family to turn to. I wasn't doing great when this happened, but I was coasting.” He paused, licked the wetness back into his throat, feeling it tighten. “What I'm asking is that when this is over, when I've done as you want and you let me go, that you pay me $860.” He looked directly at Jeff. “And maybe I can start again.”  
  
Jeff's fingers drummed at the desk as he thought about it, shamelessly eyeing at the boy before him. Jensen couldn't help it, and he squirmed where he stood. The hair on the back of his neck rose, feeling Jared's gaze on him. He felt like a slab of meat between two tigers and he really didn't have a chance. There was nothing he could do if Jeff said no. No argument, no defense.  
  
“I'll think about it,” he said after a few moments. “Sign the papers.”  
  
That didn't help at all. But it was out there. Maybe it was time to get something else out in the open. “Unless of course you are not planning on letting me go.”  
  
“You’re paying a debt. When that debt is pain, you can decide if you want to go.”  
  
“If?”  
  
Jeff shrugged. “Who knows, kid? You wouldn’t be the first street rat who realized it was better here than out there scavenging on the streets. I don’t need to kidnap boys for my movies. Hundreds are begging for a chance if it means getting away from pimps and street corners. So, you might just decide to stay with us. As you can see, we pay a hell of a lot more than you’ll get renting that ass out by the hour.”  
  
“I won’t.” Whether he was rejecting the offer to stay or the thought of him selling himself, even he didn’t know. Jeff would hear whatever he wanted to hear.  
  
“Maybe, maybe not. It’ll be your choice. People pay off their debts with services. You aren’t the first, you won’t be the last, and you aren’t even the only one right now. How many would agree to my terms if I didn’t let go when the time was up?”  
  
There was logic in that, but it didn’t ease Jensen’s hesitation. Jensen let his eyes scan over the face before him, looking for the evil a monster like this man should be oozing with, but instead he saw the same handsome face, bit of black and white scruff hiding rarely used dimples, few well-placed wrinkles and laugh lines, and dark smoldering eyes that glinted with cruel pleasure. His throat felt dry and bitter, and he swallowed back.  
  
Morgan rocked back on his chair and grinned, probably meant to be a charming smile, and Jensen could imagine it working on anyone who didn’t know what a bastard he really was. “Relax, kid. You sign those papers and you aren’t a threat to me. You can’t go to the cops and you have no recourse in the courts. As far as anyone is concerned you entered into this by your own free will and were paid in cash. There’s no buyer’s remorse for whores.”  
  
Jensen face’s reddened at his words. That’s exactly what anyone would think of him, just a whore. A whore who asked for it. A whore who was paid for it. No, Jeff Morgan was right. If he, no, when he got away, they had nothing to fear from him.  
  
Morgan continued. “Besides, keeping you under lock and key for a month is a pain. Longer would be impractical. You have my word. Four movies, fill this contract,” he tapped the papers with the tip of a pet, leaving tiny blue dots on it, “and we’ll open the doors for you.”  
  
Jensen swallowed hard. It wasn’t that he believed him, hell no, only that he didn’t feel he had any other options. He took the pen from Jeff’s hand and signed.  
  
Morgan rose from his seat and came around the desk. Jensen’s trembling heightened, that shiver up warning shot up his spine, but he was left untouched. Instead, Jeff picked up papers and slid them into a folder, hiding them away. Then he leaned back against the desk, crossing one ankle over the other, ignoring Jensen completely to speak to Jared.  
  
“Okay, we got one in the can and will be ready to ship by the end of the week. The second is scheduled to be finished tonight, right?”  
  
“I thought we had finished two already?” Jensen asked timidly. Jeff laughed. “A porn film with no sex, who do you think would buy that?”  
  
Jensen shuddered. Of course, fuck. He’d thought he was half done.  
  
“Kid’s got potential, but he's still too raw. Train him. I want him fucked at least twice a day...”  
  
Jensen couldn't help himself, he tried, he really had heard what Jared had said back in the bedroom, but with Jeff's words he just couldn't keep quiet. “You can't...”  
  
Morgan's hand flew. Jensen's head snapped so hard he nearly lost his balance, pain bursting through his cheek. The back of his own hand pressed into the heated flesh. He gave himself a moment, the quickest blink of an eye kind of moment, but he really didn't need more. This, he was familiar with. He licked his lips, tasting copper in his mouth, and exhaling every bit of defiance he'd felt seconds ago and straightened up, keeping his eyes lowered.  
  
“You say something, kid?”  
  
Jensen didn't move, didn't answer, it was a loaded question anyway. Too many times in his life he'd tried to answer only to find out any response was an invitation for more of the same. Jeff pushed off the desk and stepped closer, close enough for Jensen to feel his breath on his cheek. “Where you about to tell me what I can't do?”  
  
Realizing silence wasn't getting him anywhere Jensen bowed his head a bit deeper. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”  
  
Morgan hummed in approval. “You are a smart kid.” He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, squeezed in a warning. “You keep that attitude. We have this now,” he said, tapping the folder with his other. The guy really liked his visual aids. “So we’ll give you some freedoms. We’ll let you out of the room between shoots if you behave.”  
  
Jensen nodded. If he could get out and look around, maybe he could find a way out of this hellhole. “Thank you, sir.”  
  
The heavy hand slid down his back and cupped an ass cheek. Jensen froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Oh, God. He didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe as Morgan squeezed his ass, forcing a parting of cheeks within the sweatpants. The trembling was back, only this time it was it was very visible. Hot breath teased against his ear, the scruff scratching softly. “Oh, now that’s hot.”  
  
The softest little frighten whimper seeped out. Would Jeff yanks down the sweatpants, would he bend him over the desk? Would Jared just sit there watching as Morgan fucked his ass? Would Jensen let him? Christ, he couldn’t just let him. But if he didn’t, if he fought, Morgan would just hold him down and do it anyway. Wouldn’t he? He bowed his head lower, a surrender, whole body shuddering and resigned himself to whatever was going to happen.  
  
Jeff’s hand slapped has ass sharply, sending him stumbling a step ahead. “I can see why Jared’s so taken with you.”  
  
That was bullshit if Jensen ever heard it. Jared wasn’t taken with him. All he wanted was to heart him and use him and force him to do those fucking movies. He looked up to say something, but Morgan wasn’t paying attention to Jensen, his eyes were locked on Jared, who was starting back into the older bastard’s eyes. Seconds passed, long drawn out seconds where the two men stared at each other and Jensen, the meat between two tigers, was going to get shredded no matter who won. Then Jared kicked out one of his boots, crossed his ankles and smirked. “You really should try that ass, Jeff. So fucking tight.”  
  
Before Jensen could even register his shock at being offered up as the sacrificial lamb in the battle of beasts, Morgan’s laughter burst out, and with it, whatever tension there had been fizzled.  
  
“Get him cleaned up. We start filming when the sun goes down.”


	17. Movie 2 Angel's Breaking, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he thinks he has nothing else they can take from him, Jensen learns Jared is just getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, hugs and love to slydarkplace for beign an awesome Beta.

Concealed in the tight leather hood Jensen could barely breathe under the best of circumstances, but it was even worse as each cock thrust its way through the circular cut-out at his mouth. He was immobile, though fettered to nothing but himself; shoulders wrenched back, bound from wrists to elbow with intricate rope-work, legs bent under him in a kneel, stretched wide apart by spreader bars between both ankles and thighs. The ache of that was pure agony, a constant thrumming through clenched muscles and crushed bones that had started creeping its misery into his hips and up his spine. He couldn't crawl even if the hands stopped touching him, could not turn away, and could not see. 

He was nothing, not a person, just a bent up, bound, breathing thing being used. His folded body screamed out in every way, cramped, strained, and stained, but there was no more fight in him as the fifth, or perhaps six cock shoved its way past his bruised and swollen lips, lips stretched wide by an unforgiving ring gag secured beneath the half-hood. Locked inside the hood, dark and treacherously desolate, overwhelmed by the biting scent of wet leather, the saltiness of his tears, the stink of his own sweat and fear, and the bitterness of the come that kept filling his mouth. His throat burned from muffled screams and thrusting erections. And his ears, his covered ears could not escape the vile names, words barked at him as each man took their place and their turn to show him what he was good for, declarations more vicious than the abuse they committed on his body. 

They were filming the second part of the second movie – sex after submission – and Jensen knew the cameras were rolling, capturing every thrust of their dicks into him, every stretch of his throat, every spray of semen, every uttered word affirming his value, his worth, but there was barely enough left inside him to care. He couldn't even cry anymore, hadn't since the third cock shoved in and the numbness of body and soul blanketed him. And as he descended deeper into the despair he found it harder not to acknowledge, feel, to accept that everything he'd endured was his due.

Something had happened; somehow he'd allowed this all to happen to him. He'd trusted Estelle and she'd sold him out – sold him. What was it about him that showed every person who entered his life that he could and should be kicked and used and treated like crap? Jared knew it. Jared had read that about him as easily as a child could read the Sunday funnies. He'd shown it the day they'd met and every moment since, and Jensen had no idea what he could do to escape. 

He choked, caught off guard as his throat suddenly filled with come. He struggled to twist away, to suck in a breath, but the grip on the nape of his neck tightened. He gagged hard, whole body convulsing as the second shot of come pumped into him. Then finally the cock pulled out to splatter the remaining dregs over his already come-coated, filthy masked face. Jensen's body coiled up, coughing through the gag, spitting out the come, retching hard.

“If you puke I'll make you lick it up.” 

Jared's calm, emotionless voice came from some place just behind and above Jensen. He'd been there through it all, watched every degrading moment as the different men had grabbed and claimed Jensen's mouth, turning him, thrusting into him, using him. Jared had been his witness even more than the cameras and the crew. He'd not once touched Jensen since he'd bound him, not come any closer nor moved any farther away, and the long silences between each stranger's use of Jensen were sparkled with calmly spoken warnings and commands. Not that he needed to do more than that. His control over Jensen was complete, his power indisputable. He could and would do anything he pleased to the boy kneeling on the floor and he'd proven it yet again. He'd proven it when he'd made Jensen walk back onto the set that morning. He’d proven it when he’d made Jensen strip then kneel on the floor, naked, in the same spot, with the same cuffs he’d worn when he'd made Jensen offer his submission and prove himself, where he'd made Jensen bend over for the whip. He'd proven it when he'd held Jensen's arms tight and told Chris to add to the day old whip marks on his back, two perfectly biting lines of fire to crisscross unprepared flesh. Jensen had screamed from the sudden pain. He'd screamed as tears burned in his eyes as hotly as the skin burned his back. He'd screamed and clutched to Jared, hating and needing, and hating himself more for needing. When the worst of the pain had begun to fade Jared had grinned at him. “Just getting you back into the right state of mind, pet.”

The coldness in the hazel eyes had burned into Jensen, more frightening than whips cutting into his body. Then Jared had proceeded to bind him, slowly and with great care, stealing sight, muffling sound and silencing speech, confining mobility and displaying flesh. When all trussed up like a Christmas turkey ready for slaughter Jared's hands had slipped down between the Jensen's thighs – such very clever, experienced hands that had learned his body so well the night before. Jensen's head had dropped back gasping out the pleasure as his cock thickened and his hips bucked up into that large palm until he was grunting his need through his open mouth. However, it had been no surprise when the touches stopped, and even less so when the cock-ring was wrapped tightly around him. That's when the cocks started coming.

He couldn't fight, he couldn't run, he couldn't even escape within his own mind because every time he started to slip away Jared spoke, the quiet deep timbers of his voice yanking Jensen back into the moment. 

So Jensen didn't allow himself to vomit. Instead focused desperately on one thing – breathe, breathe, breathe – until somehow he quelled the threatening eruption and managed to contain the bile from spilling over. It was not that he had much to expel, Jared had given him nothing but a near unending supply of cocks in the last God only knew how many hours. Perhaps half the day has passed already since he'd been brought into that room without even so much as water to clean away the constant taste of his own abuse. 

Fingers touched the back of Jensen's head, and he shrank down. Not again, not so soon. Usually Jared allowed him time between each assault, a few moments to catch his breath and settle his stomach. He whimpered through the gag holding his orifice open, not even able to plead or beg, drool slithering down in rivulets over his swollen lips and rubbed raw chin, dripping down to his chest. 

“Just a hole, pet. Just a hole to be used. A well-used gloryhole they could have just as easily found in a dirty men’s room stall.”

Jensen's head snapped up, sightless, to face that dark voice – closer that he was expecting, in front instead of behind – words wrapping around his own thoughts. He fought down the shudder that rippled through his body. He shook his head sharply. They were words, just words, he told himself. But, like the sticky come coating his body, he could feel it. Not a boy, not a man, not even human. A hole. Dirty. Usable. Used. And they'd used him; they'd all used him for hours. The simple word 'please' repeating again and again, though he didn't know what he was asking for. Mercy, yes, to be let go, definitely, but also, maybe more so, to not be what Jared saw. 

The fingers at the back of his head were doing something and it took a moment to realize the ties were being undone. The leather mask loosened, like a layer of skin being peeled away, viscous and fetid. Cool air a godsend against sweaty flesh only to be replaced by the sudden blinding brightness. Jensen's eyes clenched tightly, gasping desperately for fresh, cool air, but he couldn't do what he wanted most, not with his mouth still stretched wide with the ring gag still shoved behind his teeth, its dark black straps stretching tight and tied at the back of his head. He couldn't swallow, he couldn't spit, and he couldn't clean away the foulness in his mouth.

Slowly, carefully, he squinted open his eyes only to find Jared standing before him, tall, strong, dressed in the black leather pants, dark shirt, and silver choker, all the same as the day before. Men stood nearby, half a dozen of them, and Jensen's eyes flicker timidly around the room. They were the men who had used him. Different ages, different sizes, light haired, dark haired, too skinny, too heavy. Just normal looking men. Not the giants and monsters Jensen had been envisioning. Jensen's gaze turned back to the only real monster in the room.

Jared's cool assessing gaze sent another shiver through him and he cowered lower, eyes dropping to stare at Jared's boots. He wanted so much to sink into the floor, feel it open and swallow him up, devour him for all he cared, but there was no escape from the gaze looking down at him, into him, through him. He remembered how those same eyes had looked at him the night before, how he'd felt them caress him and touch him, reach into him and hold him as Jared had held him down and taken everything from him, but unlike the night before, the mercilessness in them now intensified his own helplessness.

Jared grabbed a handful of sweat soaked hair at the back of Jensen's head to force his green eyes back up. It was then that Jensen noticed the mask still in Jared's hand. Jared's jaw clenched, lips curled into a sneer and stared into Jensen's rabbit-frightened eyes that jumping back and forth between him and the mask. He raised the mask, black covered with near translucent stains, thicker and whiter in areas, and it was the most vile come coated section that Jared rubbed over Jensen's face. 

The sounds escaping Jensen's open mouth were guttural, a shamed whine squealing out of his throat as the scent of leather and come invaded his senses yet again. Dragging the hard leather over his lips, shoving globs into his mouth, up his flaring nostrils until it was all he could taste and smell. Marking him in slime, defiling every inch of his face, his cheeks, across his forehead, his eyes were pressed shut as Jared yanked his head back to mash it against lashes and brows.

“Filthy little whore.” said Jared, tossing the mask away, the low tones a bellow in Jensen's ears. “Look at you. Used up. So fucking dirty.”

Words like scalpels cut into those dark corners of his soul that had always been his to hide in. But for some reason he couldn't hide, not from Jared. 

“You came to me innocent, a virgin, and look at you now. Three days and look at you.” The derision burned with each clearly spoken word. “Submitted to me, surrendered your body, and offered me anything. And for what?”

Before Jensen could even come up with a response in his own mind Jared crouched down at his side, long leather covered thighs bracketing around the cringing boy. Jensen felt the other man's warmth brushing against his own shivering body and didn't know if he wanted to cringe back further or lean in to clutch at whatever comfort he could find. That choice was stolen from him the second Jared's large hand wrapped around Jensen's bound erection, stroking it long and hard. The display was for the camera. Jensen didn't have to look up or open his eyes to feel the presence of the cameraman drawing nearer and moving around them and he wouldn't have if Jared's other hand didn't grab his hair and force his head back. 

Jensen's hands coiled into tight fists behind him where they were bound, digging his nails into the palm, clenching down on every strained muscle in his body to keep himself still, wanting, desperately wanting to deny Jared. For all the good it did. Jared knew him. He knew every sensitive spot, where a slide worked better than a twist, where a scratch of a fingernail or full squeeze would draw out and heighten the unwanted pleasure. Before long Jensen's eyes fluttered closed and a low whine emanated from the back of his throat. He couldn't help it, he couldn't stop himself and his hips twitched, then soon rutting up into Jared's touches.

“There we go.” Jared laughed. “Such a good little whore.” Slinking that little bit closer, Jared lowered his voice to the soft, wet, intimate whisper of a lover. “What kind of a sick fuck gets so hard being used like this?”

Jensen's eyes snapped open wide, humiliation rushing through his body like a heat wave, burning him the darkest shade of red.

“Yeah,” hissed Jared into his ear. “We can all see it. As clear as your come covered face.”

Jensen's heartfelt grunt of denial brought a grin to Jared's face and an extra twist to his wrist.

“This is what you are, pet.” His tongue flicked against Jensen's ear as he whispered. “A filthy hole for cock.”

Such an intimate touch to his sensitive skin sent a shiver through his whole body, gooseflesh rising, shooting sensation across his shoulders, sizzling down his back.

“Bound. Used,” he continued. “Covered in so much come and humping my hand desperate for more.”

Jensen's chest heaved and caved, struggling to breathe. With Jared so close to him, his body couldn't help but remember all it had felt the night before, those hands touching him, caressing, teaching him, that mouth driving pleasure in, drawing so much need out, those thighs gripping him, grounding him, that lean, muscular body grinding against him, writhing in tandem to heights Jensen had never known. He shook his head hard, part in denial, part to chase away the memories. Yet, no matter how much he shook his head or tried to pull away, he couldn't stop his own body from thrusting eagerly, wantonly, to each slide of Jared's hand.  
Jared's smirk spread across his lips as he watched his victim struggle and twitch. 

“Innocent, but a whore. Is that's why you've been thrown away so much all your life, pet? Thought you were better than this? Thought you deserved more? But you didn't, did you? Ever think maybe they would have kept you around if you'd have just bent over and taken it like the good little whore you really are?”

Tears burned at his eyes again, he'd thought he'd cried them out after the first couple of cocks down his throat, but Jared was stroking them out with words as easily as his hand stroked pleasure from his cock.

“You know that was why no one wanted you. They didn't know what to do with you. But I do. I know what you're good for. Don't I, Jensen? I am the only one who knows what you really are good for.”

Jensen tried to shake his head again, he really did, but he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but look into Jared's eyes, those cold, dark eyes that had been so warm the night before. He stared up, silently pleading for Jared to stop. Use him, he didn't care, pass him around, he didn't care about that either, but please, his eyes begged, please stop reaching inside and shining light on wounds that had been killing him for years. 

Instead, Jared released him and stood up. He moved in front of the bound boy as the cameraman moved to the side to catch them both. His gaze never left Jensen's as he slowly unbuckled his belt and popped the button of his pants, the rasp of the zipper even louder than Jensen’s ragged pants. Jensen knew what was coming, he knew what to find there, but he still couldn't stop his eyes from jumping back and forth between Jared's face and the head of his cock peeking out between the open V. Jared shoved the pants down to mid-thigh and his cock sprang out, huge and semi-hard, bobbing out as if reaching for its prey. He reached down, gave it a slow, easy stroke with one hand. His other carded through Jensen's hair until the palm rested at the back of his head, fingers tangling tightly. He looked hard into Jensen's tormented face. 

“This is all you're good for, Jensen. Do you understand me?”

Jensen's eyes blinked manically, wide and glistening, and nodded quickly. But then, at that point, he would have agreed to anything to get the torment to stop.

“The only thing you are good for is serving cock. You exist to be used by cock.” He stepped closer, and brushed the head of his threatening flesh around the stretched circle of the boy's lips, like lipstick, painting him with promises. “It's time you understand that.”

Jensen would have said he understood it already, if he could, Jared had proven it to him yet again. But before he could even really understand his own acceptance of that a stream of urine shot against his cheek. He squawked out a sound, shock jolting him back against the grip only to have Jared's strong hand tighten, jerking pain across his scalp, holding him in place. Jared shifted, turning the stream towards Jensen's open mouth, soaking his red swollen lips, letting it splash his face, burn up his nose, then back to arch its way into his opened used hole. Acrid taste and the stink of ammonia overpowered his fear and degradation and Jensen twisted in Jared's grip. His mind howled in indignation and clamped down his throat. He might not be able to close his mouth and it might be the last act of a desperate man since he knew Jared would punish him for it, but he had to do something, had to block what he was being turned into. Urine filled the cavern of his mouth, but with nowhere to go it bubbled over and spilled down his body, a waterfall of pale yellow washing down his chest, splashing to his thighs.

“No!” barked Jared, for the first time raising his voice, and he grabbed Jensen's head in both hands and shoved his cock in deep. There was no stopping the invasion. Jared just thrust in, jabbing hard, once, twice; forcing Jensen's already stretched throat open. Jensen couldn't move, he couldn't twist, he couldn't even scream. Mortification burned through his face, boiled his body, shuddered his soul as he felt the urine rain down the gullet. He could feel it, hitting the back of his throat, slithering down into his stomach. He could feel it hot and coiling, churning into bile and threatening to rush back up. 

No! No, God! His mind railed. Please no! Jared couldn't do this to him. He couldn't be this. A receptacle for come was one thing but please, not a toilet! 

Jared's held on tight, thumbs pressing under Jensen's cheeks, fingers digging into the back of his skull, forcing Jensen to not only take it, endure it, but to face Jared as he did. He had to look into Jared's malicious eyes and smirking lips as he watched the torment play out across Jensen's face.

Jared's hazel eyes gleamed near black, dark and cold, fire and ice, ruthless and possessive. “Like me looking at you now?”

Jensen's eyes snapped wide, and his heart stopped. Just stopped. The pain in his chest, a glacial fist squeezing until he couldn't breathe. He felt the frozen shambles of his heart shatter inside him, crumbling. Cold shooting out with every shard through his body, shivering through his belly, shooting down his limbs, numbing his brain, his sight spattering into dark spots, light fading away.

The cock ripped out of his throat, and Jensen's body convulsed, lungs grappling to fill, gulping in one harsh breath after another, barely aware as the stream weakened then finally ended. No sooner had the last drops spilt before Jared rammed back in. Only this time he was plundering Jensen's mouth, hard, powerful thrusts slamming into the boy's face. Jared shifted Jensen's head back, forcing him into the perfect position to just use the hole at his disposal and quickened his already brutal pace. Jensen's throat was numb in its agony, way past stretched and used, his nose smashing into Jared's pubic hair, Jared's balls slapping against his chin, the bitter taste of piss slowly being replaced with the sharp familiar taste of pre-come. Jensen could do nothing but take it, too helpless to do anything, too weak, broken. In the back of his mind, along with his own internal cries he heard others, all those contemptuous and scornful voices he'd heard all his life, talking, shrieking, laughing, getting louder all at once, scrambling to the forefront. No longer lingering in the back of his mind or whispering in his nightmares, but screaming out what they'd always told him. 

Bad. Your fault. Stupid. Dirty. Useless. Not worth the effort. Pretty boy. Good for nothing. Deserve it. Deserve it. You're fault. Deserve it.

His mother shriek, his father growl, the social workers disdain, foster parents impatience, other kids contempt. There was no sense trying to fight anymore.

He deserved this.

A solid weight sunk down and pressed up against Jensen's back. A jean covered crotch landing over his feet and pressing up against his ass, strong thighs wrapping around his, warmth of a body blanketing his shivering body, suddenly supporting him. Calloused hands slid down his shoulders then his torso, caressing, soothing. He wanted to cry and shove back, drive away the presence, tell whoever it was that he was too dirty to touch, too tainted, but it wasn't for him to decide, not anymore. Jared's eyes never left his, held his gaze with as much ease as he held his body. The hands dragged down his body to his thighs and rubbed them for a moment before sliding between them and palmed his cock. He let out a weak whimper as the cock plunged in and out of his mouth, eyes beseeching Jared. Jared's answer was a twitch of those smirking lip, the pleasure so obvious, the victory too complete, as he watched the shame burn brighter, hotter, choking Jensen as much as the cock in his throat. He was hard, he could feel himself throb and swell as the grip began fisting him, each stroke matching Jared's thrust into him. 

The other hand reached for the cock-ring and snapped it open. Sudden freedom washing even more blood through his dick and he thrust up into it, moaning around Jared. But there was something wrong with it, and he hated himself even more when he realized what that was. The hands touching him were wrong. They were too small, callouses not in the right places, the grip not as proprietary as it should be. 

He blinked away the fog of tears and sought out Jared, eyes begging, begging Jared not to do this to him, not to make him do this; begging him to leave Jensen something, just this one little thing. Jared had taken everything else, destroyed every other part of Jensen.

“Come.” whispered Jared.

Jensen's eyes snapped shut, the word ricocheted through his mind, silencing every other voice inside his head, bouncing off the humiliation and desperation and his hips drove up into the tight fist wrapped around his dick. The fire coiled and burned every fiber of his being, gathering up the last dregs of his self-esteem or self-worth and gushed it from his body in a blinding explosion, rope after rope of the vile evidence of his shame, of Jared's control over his body and mind.  
His moans gagged behind the cock as Jared thrust in one last time then pulled out, grabbing his glistening cock and with one pump was painting Jensen's already filthy face.

Bliss of orgasm shattered in the blink of an eye leaving Jensen panting like a racehorse, body quaking in tremors, sightless eyes staring at the floor. Jared took a few steps back, taking his minute to regain his own equilibrium, hands quick and efficiently tucking away his spent cock, zipping, buttoning, and fastening his silver belt buckle until he was all put back together. Jensen doubted he could be put back together that easily. Or at all for that matter. 

A hand touched his chin, gently really, considering, and lifted until Jensen had no choice but to look up into the camera. He knew what it saw, what it was recording, immortalizing everything stripped away from him, left bare body and soul, exposed, empty, but too far beyond numb to feel shame. 

From somewhere off to the side he heard Jeff Morgan's voice, rougher than he'd ever heard before. “And cut!”

A burst of applause exploded from the crew; the witnesses, the audience. Their exuberance sent a flutter of panic through the Jensen, a frightened wail squeaking out of him. He flinched and whimpered with each catcall of pleasure or pat to Jared's back. They'd enjoyed Jensen's degradation. And if that didn't drive the stake through his soul deeper Jensen didn't know what could. He’d just been broken, destroyed and they cheered on the entertainment.

“Shh,” hissed softly, gentle breath warming the back of his neck as hands rubbed up and down his sides. Jensen suddenly remembered he was still wrapped up in someone and he didn't even know who, had no idea who'd just jerked him off when he was covered in come, piss and so roughly used. He couldn't face it, couldn't deal with it. Hell, he couldn't deal with anything anymore. He shook his head hard, whimpering and twisting, trying to get away – not an easy task when bound as he was. The hands clamped around him, pulled him back against a strong chest and just cooed another soft “shh” into his ear. 

It took a moment, maybe a few, but the panic slowly ebbed when the hands did nothing more. As soon as he stopped struggling the hands eased up, another moment passed as they both waited to see what the other would do. When he didn't try to pull away again the hands moved to the back of his head and unlaced the strap to the gag. Jensen groaned, it was pure agony to move his jaw, but he was able to swallow and that was worth the pain. The hands rubbed down the joint of his jaw, massaging it for a bit, then slid down his neck, caressing over his shoulders, heedless of the mess too many men had left on his body, all the way down his arms where they released the ropes binding him. His own arms dropped lifeless to his sides; useless, like him. Strong hands rubbed over his wrists and elbows, massaging the blood flow back into play, just gentle touching, soothing, calming the shivers in his body, easing the ache of exhausted muscles. But they were still the wrong hands. And the fact that Jensen could feel how wrong those hands were and how only the other hands could take away what they themselves had inflicted felt like a blow to Jensen's soul. It showed him, yet again, how unbelievably fucked up Jared had made him. Or maybe he already was. The disgust he felt for himself overwhelmed him.

He licked his sore swollen lips and peered up, timid, frightened of what he would find. Jared still stood several steps away. He'd not moved through the jubilation, just stood tall, hips twisted just a bit to rest his weight on his back leg, shoulders pulled back, watching Jensen. Watching Jensen being unbound by the wrong hands. There was something in his closed off face Jensen couldn't read, something dark, foreboding smoldering behind his usual mask.

“Well done, Jared.” Jeff's voice broke through the melee of congratulatory crew.

Jared's head snapped up, eyes cutting right to Jeff. “Always my best for you, Daddy.”

With that Jared turned on his heels and sauntered out.

Jensen's stared after him, the patter in his chest quickening. Jared had walked out. Jared left him. Jared had broken him then walked out and left him. He'd left him with Jeff who profited on his pain, and a crew who cheered when he was beaten and degraded, men who got off shoving cocks into helpless and bound boys, people who took pleasure in watching his systematic destruction. He'd left him alone. 

Last time, yesterday was it? – when he'd been in so much pain, Jared and taken care of his wounds and held him during nightmares. He had kept him safe when he'd felt his weakest. But now he was walking away, leaving him broken and dirty and in the arms of another. Did he leave him for the man holding him? Did he leave him for all the others still in the room? Were they going to do more? Take more? A low whine escaped the back of his throat, panic overwhelming him. He wanted to cry out for Jared, beg him to come back. 

“Shh.” The soft hiss from behind him again, those wrong strong hands wrapped around and pulled him back. Jensen turned into it, starved for anything, the kindest drop of affection and when he peered back he saw the hair first. He knew the moment the long dark tresses brushed against his cheek that it was Chris wrapped around him. Chris, who danced with whips. Chris, who could inflict such agony. He shuddered and cowered in his arms. He didn't know what it meant, he didn't know why Chris held him or what he wanted. But he knew that if Chris would just not hurt him anymore he would give him whatever he wanted. Anything. Everything.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's left all along with Chris, the man who dances with whips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to sylsdarkplace for jumping on the bandwagon to Beta this for me. A great eye and a great ear to help me find the words

The first thing Jensen noticed as Chris lifted him to his feet was his strength. He might not be as tall or as brawny as Jared but the man was strong. He was as solid as a wall and his arms were thick corded muscle, muscle that was all but holding Jensen up while his legs quaked weakly beneath him. They'd been unbound a while ago and Chris had used those strong hands to rub out kinks and pain, rushing blood through limp limbs until Jensen could move without whimpering. 

Most of the crew had ignored them, wouldn't even look towards the duo on the floor as they closed up the set. Jensen wasn't even sure what they were doing, too lost in his own shattered bubble of misery while he tried not to flinch each time Chris touched him. He couldn't look at the man, not directly, too afraid, too ashamed, so instead he just sat there, boneless but obedient to each pressure to shift this way or that. It wasn't until Chris was satisfied that he finally moved behind Jensen and with a solid grip under his arms raised the boy to his feet. And God did that hurt. Blood rushed faster, pain cramped into long unused muscles. He just wanted to curl up and cry again. Chris watched him carefully for a moment, sending yet another flutter of panic through Jensen until he realized the older man was waiting for him to be able to move. He nodded shakily.

Chris slipped an arm around his waist and with the slightest shove moved them both towards the door. Jensen's feet felt like lead, stumbling, glancing back into the busy room one last time. He didn't know what Chris wanted; all he could figure out was that Chris wanted privacy for it. Jared had been gentler in private. Jared didn't dance with whips, though. Jared had said that taking care of Jensen was part of his job, but Jared was gone. Jared had left him and Chris was there. Chris, who hadn't really gotten to use his whips. Chris, who just fixed him up enough to be able to get him off alone, Chris whose strong arm held him close, who kept his body tight against Jensen as they walked up each painful step. Chris, who seemed to know when to slow down a bit or when Jensen needed just a little stop to catch his breath. Chris, who seemed patient enough to take his time getting Jensen somewhere alone yet who wouldn't say a goddamn thing to let Jensen know why, but Jensen knew he was just being stupid or obtuse. He knew why. How could he not know why? Every man in that room had made it clear what they each wanted to do, evident with their cheers and applauding and leers. And Chris, at least, had untied him, had rubbed the pain out. He, at least, wasn't going to do it in the middle of the room with everyone watching. 

As they reached the top of the stairs Chris stopped, letting Jensen lean back against the wall a moment to rest. Jensen couldn't hold back anymore, not under Chris' watchful eyes. His voice came out rough, nearly choking on his words as he forced them out. “I won't fight you.”

Chris' fathomless blue eyes locked with his for a brief second before Jensen bowed his head and stared down. “I mean, I'll be good.”

Jensen's anxiety cranked up a notch as he waited for Chris to say something, anything, maybe to do something and take what he wanted, give some kind of indication of what would happen when they got where ever they were going. Instead he just stood there, looking at Jensen cowering against the wall, which was worse than if he did do something. His chin quivered as he spoke again. “Please,” he whispered. “Just no more pain. Okay? Please? I'll be good. I won't fight. I'll do whatever you want.”

He heard a sigh, sounding more frustrated than anything, and Jensen had to bite back a whimper. He'd said something wrong. God, he'd probably pissed Chris off. He'd pissed off the man who danced with cruel whips and had arms of corded muscle. If Chris would only tell him what he wanted, what was expected, if he would just say something, anything! Jensen's legs trembled beneath him; if not for the wall he would have crumbled and sunk to his knees. Maybe that was what Chris wanted, though. Maybe he wanted what the other men had taken. But before he could move Chris' arm wrapped around his waist again and pulled him down the hallway.

The door to the bedroom was unlocked, first time Jensen had known it to be. They stopped just inside and Chris let him go, stepping back, his gaze never leaving Jensen. Jensen stole one last glance up, and then dropped his eyes again, wrapping his arms around himself to suppress his tremors. He waited, he waited what felt like eons for Chris to tell him what he wanted, what to do, but Chris just stood there with those clear blue eyes watching every twitch, every shudder, every frightened flick of green eyes towards the bed, the floor, the couch. The wait was torture, incredibly painful torture because the longer it lasted the more horrific scenarios Jensen came up with.

“Where, um...” he asked finally, barely above a whisper. “Where do you want me?”

Instead of speaking Chris' arm rose out from his side and he pointed towards the bathroom. Jensen's mind was as much a mess as the rest of him, numb and spinning, unable to catch onto a single thought other than something bad was about to happen. His hands gripped tighter around his body, fingers digging into his naked flesh. He nodded shakily. He walked slowly towards the bathroom stopping just inside, not even bothering to turn the light on, eyes down, hiding from the mirror and what his reflection would reveal.

The light flashed suddenly, and he startled. Chris came in, moving around him and pulled something down from the medicine cabinet. He grabbed a few more things then turned to Jensen holding them up. Jensen's mind took a moment until he realized the message the mouthwash, toothpaste and toothbrush were sending. 

“Right.” he said quietly. “I'm dirty.” 

He took them and stepped over to the sink. Without looking up, without seeing either himself or Chris in the mirror he spoke again. “Do you want me to shower, too?”

Chris' hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed, not strong, not hard, just a little, then he left the room.

The moment he was alone Jensen let the tears flow. He let the trembling in his body free until he had to hold onto the counter to keep from falling to the floor. Turning on the water at the sink helped to stifle the sounds of his sobs, though probably not by much, and he let himself cry.

When the worst of it passed he brushed his teeth hard, not once but three times. He scrubbed his tongue and the cheeks and scoured every inch of his mouth. Then he rinsed, the mouthwash burning into the tender tissue, and he revelled in it, again and again until his whole mouth was aflame. He probably would have stood at that sink for the rest of the day if he wasn't afraid of leaving Chris waiting longer than necessary. But the man didn't want him dirty and covered in filth left by others so he stepped into the shower and did to his body what he'd already done to his mouth.

The warmth of the water eased the aches and trembling, but did nothing for his anxiety, knowing that once he stepped out of the shower, once he was clean, someone else would just dirty him again. He tried to rush despite wanting nothing more than to spend hours letting the hot water scrape away not only what had been put on him but hopefully a layer or two of skin to go with it. He wanted to burn his own flesh off until he couldn't feel the sticky drying come even in his memory. He wanted to curl up at the bottom of the tub and boil himself until his own bones turned to mush, and he washed down the drain with the rest of the filth. The one thing he didn't want was to get out, dry off and return to the other room. Not that he had much of a choice. 

Less than thirty minutes after he'd stepped foot into the bathroom he stepped out of it, his skin pink from the hard scrubbing, his wet hair combed back and dripping over his shoulder and the nape of his neck. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself again, cover as much of his nakedness as he could. Instead he gripped his fingers at his belly, his gaze staring at them, willing them not to shake and stood before Chris.

He waited for a hand, a touch, a command, even a shove; some kind of direction to tell him what was going to happen. Chris left him again in the silence until it near suffocated Jensen, and it opened his mouth. “So...” he asked, just as quiet as he'd asked the first time. “Where do you want me?”

The silence lingered only a few seconds before he felt the other man move closer, feet stepping into view. The single finger touched his chin. Jensen flinched, frightened eyes snapping up. He looked for the lust or twinkle of cruelty in the blue eyes, but they were still as fathomless as they'd always been, as they seemed to always be – so unlike Jared's eyes which seemed to constantly be speaking, laughing, threatening, promising, watching, knowing, learning. Jensen took in a deep breath, drawing in strength or courage, perhaps just hope he didn't do anything more to upset the man who danced with whips and waited to find out his fate.

Chris held his chin up, his eyes locked to Jensen's for a long moment, just looking at him. For the life of him Jensen couldn't figure out what Chris was looking at, or looking for, but then Chris dropped his hand away, released another one of those little frustrated sighs and pointed to the bathroom again. 

Jensen looked towards the bathroom door then back to the man, trying to understand what he wanted since he obviously wasn't saying anything. A sudden though came to him, and he wondered if Chris could speak. Jensen had never heard him utter a single word, only the soft calming hisses, air through teeth, when he'd comforted Jensen earlier. Chris had not been one of the men using him for the movie with a hard cock and cruel words. Jensen knew that, especially now that he'd become more familiar with the man's touch, but no, there had been six men behind Jared when the mask had come off. So what did Chris want? Why did he want him back in the bathroom? It hit Jensen like a slap. He was still not clean. Somewhere, somehow, despite the toothpaste, shampoo and soap Jensen had missed something. He felt the heat crawling up his chest and burn into his face and turned away quickly.

He would take his time, go slower, do it right. He jumped into the shower and turned the water as hot as his body could handle, then tweaked it just a little more. Grabbing the soap he scrubbed, his hand manic and harsh, over and over again until his chest stung with each pass of his hand. Had to get clean. His inner thighs got the same treatment, where he'd been stained, marked for what he was. Had to get clean. But that wasn't true. It wasn't his body that was marked the worst. It was his face. It was his face and his hair and his eyes. It was his mouth and his lips and his chin. It was his tongue and his throat. Hand scrambling for the nailbrush he ground it into the soap. Had to get clean. Brushing his chin hard, the hard bristles scraping over his lips, his cheeks, and his brow. Had to get clean. Sticking out his tongue and scraping, gagging, scraping. Had to get clean. He choked on the taste of soap as it filled his mouth, and he gagged hard, retching. Had to get clean. His stomach rebelled and before he knew it Jensen was crashing to the bottom of the tub and vomiting. Tears bubbled over and streamed out, lost within the raining shower as its warmth offered him more comfort than he deserved. It's warmth the only thing to keep his shaking body from going into full shock. His body twisting and arched violently each time he vomited, expelling come and urine until there was nothing left but bile and even long past that. He forced his eyes open, seeing his shame and degradation swirling the drain, diluting until it finally disappeared. Washing away, leaving nothing but the stark whiteness of the tub to hold his gaze. 

Jensen stared at it, long and hard, his mind trying to understand. Filth washing away, his filth, his pain, disappearing down the drain. White, clean. But he wasn't clean. He could never be clean again, not after what he'd done. No. That was wrong. It wasn't what he had done. It was what was done to him. What Jared did to him. Jared had done it. Jared had dirtied him. Jared had taken, used, broken, but it was Jared who had done it. Jensen thrust himself away from the clean silver circle of the drain so hard he crashed against the far side, his head slamming into the wall. Barely even aware of the downfall of cleansing water he tilted his head back and screamed out. What vomiting hadn't expelled his screams did and he bellowed long and loud, an anguished animalistic wail resonating off the bright tiled bathroom walls. He sucked in a deep breath and screamed again, only this time words burst out of him, mad and mindless, from the depth of his fragmented soul. 

“Bastard! You fucking bastard!”

As soon as his lungs emptied his collapsed back against the wall, gasping, trembling, empty and weak, lips moving to the soundless curses again and again, reliving every moment of what had happened, yet knowing, feeling, reminding himself of his own helplessness in the situation, the betrayal that had brought him there. Reminding himself that he had to endure to survive. He'd never know how long he just sat there; reclaiming his own mind and body, but eventually he became aware of the soft gentle patter of rain on his body. The shaking had dissipated, his breath calmer and mind quieter, his skin tingled, tight and wrinkly, his heartbeat, perhaps for the first time that day, a slow thump in his chest. Jensen's lips parted, and he exhaled. 

Then he remembered Chris waiting outside, and his eyes opened. Chris had taken the time to get him away, was patient enough to make sure he was clean of everything that had been done. Jensen just wished he knew if he would be used or hurt, would it be sex or pain? He guessed pain. Chris was a sadist who could decorate flesh like an artist painted a canvass. Was that what Jensen was to be? Canvass to the brush of whips? Or had what Chris watched excited him? Did he want to use Jensen the same way? Did he want more than just to ram his cock into a bound, blindfolded hole?

Sitting in the tub under the seemingly endless hot water would not bring answers, in fact, would probably only bring trouble and that was the last thing Jensen needed. He pushed himself up and turned the water off, dried himself with efficient pats of the still damp towel and combed his hair back again. His stared defiantly at the wall, ignoring the reflection in the mirror, hating that face without even turning to see it. Hating the boy who would never be a man, the man he was too weak to stop being a boy, the pretty lips that drew too much attention and wide eyes that surely would be as dead as the soul inside. He threw the comb down and stepped back out into the room.

Chris hadn't moved far. His relaxed body leaned up against the wall, one shoulder pressed in, ankles crossed and those blue eyes followed Jensen out of the bathroom until Jensen stopped in the middle of the room. Waiting did what it always did and led to silence, only Jensen couldn't be bothered to play out his own anxieties anymore.

Holding his arms out wide to his side Jensen displayed his own nakedness. “That's as clean as I can get so if it's not good enough then you'll just have to get over it.”

Whatever reaction Jensen expected Chris' cocked eyebrow was not it. Tension rippled through Jensen as he waited for more, for something, anything, but Chris seemed to be waiting as well. The man had to know what his silence was doing, had to know what he was putting Jensen through and the fact that he seemed so calm and so fucking relaxed when Jensen was riffled with fear, when Jensen was waiting to find out what other trauma or abuse he'd have no control of stopping – it all became too much. Maybe it was his breakdown in the bathroom, maybe it was that he felt he couldn't go any lower, maybe it was that he just couldn't handle waiting, worrying, wondering anymore, but whatever it was, it buried the fear beneath the anger.

“If you're going to fuck me then get to it. I've had a tough day and want to get some fucking sleep.” 

Chris’ lips twitched into a grin. Was that amusement at Jensen's impotent outburst? Whatever self-control or thoughts of self-preservation Jensen had vanished in a heartbeat as the son of a bitch all but laughed at him. 

“What?” he sneered. “You can't fucking get it up if you don't whip me first? Well you're shit out of luck because you forgot to bring your sexual aids.” 

Chris' smile grew, spreading across his face and reaching up to twinkle through those blue eyes. “Not so broken after all, are ya?”  
Jensen blinked at the sound of the soft southern accent. Before he could even react Chris nodded to him then disappeared out the door. It was a long time after the sound of the lock clicking into place registered before Jensen realized he was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Work in Progress, I am posting to encourage and motivate myself to finish it.


End file.
